


I decided as long as I'm going to hell, I might as well do it thoroughly.

by JustAwful



Category: My Chemical Romance
Genre: AOL Instant Messenger, Angst, Blood, Everyone is bisexual and no one dies, Ghosts, I won't apologize for my actions, Light Masochism, Literary References & Allusions, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Recreational Drug Use, Slow Burn, Smoking, Underage Drinking, Vampires, depressed young adults, for like one tiny part, queer platonic relationships on the side, references to medical tools?, vampire mind control
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-31
Updated: 2021-01-28
Packaged: 2021-03-09 05:41:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 6
Words: 32,805
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27299641
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JustAwful/pseuds/JustAwful
Summary: “This is total bullshit.” Gerard laughed, a deft hand swiping over his face.”Vampires are nothing like this!”“According to who?” Frank said, chewing. He was scooping a palm full of Popcorn into his mouth. He had an arm folded behind his head and had spread out on one side of the bed.“The creator of contemporary horror,Mary Shelley. Do you live under a rock?”“Doyou? Mary Shelley wroteFrankenstein.Draculawas written by Bram Stoker.”“Oh whatever, it was required reading forever ago.” Gerard said.“Okay,Vlad. Then what are vampires actually like?”“Well..” Gerard started…Aka Community college AU: Help I think my best friend and his weird older brother are vampires and we are all in our early twenties figuring out life. And boy do I have my own little problems to deal with!!!
Relationships: Frank Iero/Gerard Way
Comments: 28
Kudos: 49





	1. Mischief Night

**Author's Note:**

> “ _I decided as long as I'm going to hell, I might as well do it thoroughly_.”  
> ― **Stephenie Meyer, _Twilight_**
> 
>  **a/n** : Dear reader,
> 
> Look, I realize this has been done so many times, vampires and other creatures of the night...Haunted houses… College age hopelessness, the uncertainty of the future, the first times and the rawness of complicated early adulthood longing peppered with new responsibility? Oh, honey... I feel it. Let's experience it again together.
> 
> This is a fantastic 2009 where Frank turns 19 on his birthday, All tech is from around then and everyone either has a flip phone or one with a slide-out keyboard lol. Hahaha. I read Dracula and referenced Twilight for you. 
> 
> Thank you to my most beloved GOBLIN for being my beta and encouraging me through my breakdown. Hahaha, never speak of this again. I will always hold them back so you can save yourself.

_“..the world seems full of good men--even if there are monsters in it.” _  
**― Bram Stoker, Dracula**__

____

____

The computer chimed, a small window popping up on the monitor screen indicating that Frank was getting a new IM. He had been getting dressed across the room, choosing several clean layers to wear for another day of school. It was Wednesday and he had two classes to hit, as well as a paper to turn in. The work was light so far this semester, thank god. A relief from the previous where he was pulling two to three energy drink fueled all-nighters a week just to keep his grades up. He knew things would start picking up at the end of the month as they got closer to midterms, but for right then it was manageable.

Frank approached the desktop, a toothbrush dangling from his mouth. He already knew who it was based off the black and green text he caught a flash of from on the other side of his bedroom.

 **xX_D00m3dToast:** hey frank.

 **xX_D00m3dToast:** frank

 **xX_D00m3dToast:** frank

 **xX_D00m3dToast:** frankie boy.

 **Misfitz4Eva:** mikey

 **Misfitz4Eva:** god ur so annoying

 **Misfitz4Eva:** wat is it?

_xX_D00m3dToast is typing…_

Mikey and Frank had gotten to be close friends over the summer after graduation, they met in high school initially, only ever passing each other in the halls and residing within two separate social groups. They became fast friends when Frank’s mom forced him to take up a summer job at the library where Mikey and sometimes one of his friends or his brother would come to take a look at their graphic novel selection. The library had a remarkably extensive collection for fuckall nowhere New Jersey. 

A few months later they ended up having several classes together during the spring semester at the local community college. And through small talk that turned into full blown conversation, it turned out they had a lot in common. Liked to play guitar. Liked similar music. Liked video games and bought weed from the same burn out ex-jock who used to bully them both junior year. Mikey was cool.

 **xX_D00m3dToast:** oh good ur alive… :P 

Mikey’s little yellow emoticon looked at Frank with its tongue sticking out from the screen. Frank felt his eyes roll while he buttoned his flannel. He then leaned over the desk to type.

 **Misfitz4Eva:** let me guess

 **Misfitz4Eva:** u wanna hang out later

 **xX_D00m3dToast:** duh.

 **Misfitz4Eva:** Ill text u after your bio class

 **xX_D00m3dToast:** kk frankie. l8r days.

 **Misfitz4Eva:** dont dissect too many fetal piglets without me

*******

Fall was the best time of year, wasn’t it? Frank thought it was. It was the best because the sky would change color. In the morning orange light created blue shadows behind the trees and lawn furniture as the sun would arc overhead during the beginning of shorter days. Fall meant you could wear all your good clothes without them sticking to you. Jeans and long sleeves and jackets. Not too hot, perfect. Fall was the best because at the end of the month of October was Halloween, his birthday. Combine that with the orange and yellow and red leaves on the trees of Jersey? Double perfect.

It was a crisp October afternoon. Class was finished for the day for Frank and he had passed through the front quad on his way to the smoking area where he and Mikey had agreed to meet. 

Mikey was sitting on a concrete bench and had a textbook cracked open in his lap that showed a complicated black and white diagram of a human tooth. He was slouched over the book in his gray coat with the big brass buttons, glasses slipping down his nose. He looked absorbed in what he was studying.

“I can’t believe you went with dentistry.” Frank said, adjusting the strap of his backpack on his shoulder. He packed a new box of cigarettes that was previously in his pocket against his palm before pressing the lid of the cardboard box open and pinching a smoke between his lips. He bought them at the gas station on the way to campus as a treat for turning in his paper.

Mikey, who heard the sound of a lighter flicking, looked up. Grey smoke was ribboning out of Frank’s mouth.

“I dunno’... Teeth are kinda cool to me.” He beamed up at Frank from where he was.

A loud buzz from deep in Mikey’s messenger bag was heard. He dug through it to get to his phone. It must have been up against something plastic, a pencil case or a calculator. 

“Gee says he can come pick us up. You done with class?” Mikey said.

“Yeah.” Frank agreed.

*******

“Your birthday is this weekend.” Gerard said, looking at Frank through dark and oversized sunglasses in the reflection of the rearview mirror.

Gerard had one hand on the steering wheel and the other angled out of the cracked car window with a lit cigarette between his fingers. “We still on to go to Biology Girl’s party? She said there would be a live band, didn’t she Mikey?”

Mikey nodded, giving a “Mmhm” from the passenger seat. He was fussing with Gerard’s CD collection that was kept between four stuffed to the point of not being able to be zippered faux-fur sleeve style holders that were usually thrown on the floor of the car. He couldn’t decide between _Jimmy Eat World_ and an old _Muse_ CD.

The three of them had left campus and made a run to 7/11 for slurpees, mouths dyed red and blue from the flavored slush. From where he was in the back Frank could see in the side mirror on the outside of Mikey’s door that his teeth were a bright blue. 

Frank pulled his seatbelt out to slack around his shoulder so he could lean forward and swipe the _Jimmy Eat World_ disc out of Mikey’s hands from where he was in the backseat. He fed it into the dashboard player slot between the two boys and adjusted the volume to be _loud enough_ before settling back into the back seat.

Biology girl was from Mikey’s biology class that took place at nine in the morning. She had told Mikey while leaning forward and looking at him in a way that maybe indicated that she was flirting with him, that he could ‘invite anyone he wanted’ to her party. Naturally this meant his weird older brother and an additional two loser friends. 

They would do the same thing they did last year, show up as gatecrashers to a little costumed get together and make a bunch of drunk and stoned strangers sing Frank happy birthday. A perk of being a party-age All Hallows Eve baby. At least Frank thought so.

His birthday… It made him feel kinda sad, knowing that they were running out of October and rolling into what would soon be the colder coming months. When you woke up the next day after Halloween the decorations and fake blood lost their charm. Their purpose, really. Pumpkins rotted on the porch, crunchy leaves turned into stinking mulch under snow. November first was when Mariah Carrey’s _All I Want For Christmas Is You_ started playing at the grocery store and the mall. A banger, but it all went by too soon for Frank.

Mikey was tapping along to the music when he turned to give Frank a mischievous sidelong look. “By the way, I bought the _stuff._ ”

____

____

“Yeah?” Frank said.

Mikey nodded. “Yeah.” Frank didn’t know what stuff he was talking about. Probably weed. Usually weed. The music in the car was too loud for real conversation and Frank didn’t press further.

He shifted in his seat, reaching to crank his window all the way down. Autumn air blew over his face, picking up the hair that usually was falling into his eyes and he marveled at how good it felt on his skin. Gerard liked to drive fast and that paired with the music and the temperature made content settle into his chest.

He was spacing out in the back seat, distracted. Frank leaned his elbow onto the ledge of the window and let his chin rest over the middle of his arm. He felt tired from waking up early, hungry and excited about cracking the fridge open when he got home. He let his head lean against the car.

Frank thought it was strange for Gerard to bring up his birthday. He hadn’t been at the party him and Mikey had been at last year on Halloween and Frank hadn’t really spoken to Gerard much aside from the occasional ‘hello’ when at their house to see Mikey or a ‘Thanks’ for whenever he drove him and his brother wherever they needed to be. Mikey probably had brought it up with him because of Biology Girl’s invite. For some reason however, it made his stomach turn sour. 

His thoughts drifted until he realized that the boys in the front were singing. Mikey’s voice was quieter and hard to recognize at first because he was bouncing around in his seat so much. Gerard had a larger helping of confidence, somehow being able to smoke, drive and sing at the same time. He wasn’t bad and from the sound of his voice Frank could tell that he was smiling.

At the next stoplight Mikey and Gerard were in full force, Gerard's black hair and Mikey's arms thrown everywhere. They screamed. The car shook and Frank was laughing hard in the back because a car full of grandmothers who were probably on their way to their quilting group had stopped next to them to witness their rock’n’roll exorcism. They honked and peeled out. The old women, not them. 

They however talked about it for the rest of the short drive.

*******

“See you later, Frankie.” Mikey reached into the backseat and slapped his shoulder through his heavy denim jacket. “Don’t forget, jet black.”

“Right.” Frank said, his voice sounding distant. He was sure he would remember what this was about later. Probably. His head was feeling fuzzy. He thought for a second that he could have been a little carsick.

In the driver’s seat Gerard had his sunglasses on top of his head, hair pushed back and fanning around the black frames. He was looking at Frank again in the mirror, this time eyes unobscured by dark plastic. Frank couldn’t tell if it was really at him or through him. He felt uncomfortable, as if Gerard wanted him to get out of his car faster. He decided to do just that, suddenly feeling very focused on leaving.

Briefly as to not be rude, Frank glanced at him and nodded, quickly ducking out of the car.

“Thanks again for the ride, man.” He said, it came out sort of mechanical sounding. Like when your parents make you talk to a distant relative on the phone and you have to make smalltalk.

As soon as he slammed the car door Mikey and Gerard sped off, music louder than before. Frank wondered what the fuck that was about, but when they were out of sight his anxiety melted away.

*******

That night Frank was laying on his bed, guitar resting on his stomach and picking at the metal strings. He was noodling around without plugging it in, feeling wired after a too late cup of coffee that he made the mistake of drinking that evening to finish his history homework.

His phone buzzed giving a trill to get his attention. From where he was laying he reached for it, flipping it open in his palm.

“U awake?” It was Ray. Frank’s eyebrows pinched together. _Why?_

“Awake?” Frank was typing when another text came through, making the phone vibrate in his hand. He clicked a few buttons to return to his inbox.

“DEVILS NIGHT!!!!!!” Mikey had sent him. 

Frank had completely forgotten that they were supposed to hang out. They had planned this weeks ago while he was fervently studying for a test. He dropped his phone onto his face, it bounced off of his head and clanged against his guitar with a tinny noise. Frank groaned and rubbed over his forehead where it had landed.

*******

They met up in the park by Frank’s house since he was the only one without a car and he wasn’t about to skateboard over to Mikey or Ray’s when it was so late out. They lived too far away. 

The three boys, all clad in black, jet black per Mikey’s request, had climbed to the top of the colorful play structure that was in the center of a bed of tanbark. A cool breeze whipped through the surrounding trees, making the atmosphere take on an unnamed magic.

“Where’s Gee again?” Ray asked. Ray was his friend first before Mikey came along, they had known each other for practically ever and Ray made for the third member of their three musketeers style crew. He was studying music…And archeology. As a fallback.

“On a date.” Mikey was giving a little smile. The collar of his coat was flipped up and he had a thick knitted hat over his ears.

“Oh really?” Ray said, disbelief in his tone. “With who?”

“Some girl he met at the record store.” He was holding both his hands out, gesturing in front of his chest to indicate that the girl had a big set of-

Ray was laughing and shaking his head. His curly hair moving around his face in a secondary motion. “Shut up.”

The backfiring of a car in the distance made them all jump.

Frank pressed the side button on his phone and glanced at the time. It was almost midnight and if Gerard was still out now that could only mean that the date was going well. If he were being honest, he didn’t know much about Gerard aside from the fact that he was a giant nerd and was old enough to buy beer. He was Mikey’s brother and they were close, therefore he was also cool by proxy.

A knot tied in his guts as he looked up, why this in particular was making him uncomfortable he couldn’t figure out. Gerard had trouble washing his hair and barely left home aside from work and school. It was hard to believe that he was out with someone. Let alone a girl at nearly midnight O’clock.

Maybe it was easy to meet girls at the record store that he worked at. Cool girls who bought vinyl. 

Frank cleared his throat, fully disregarding his thoughts and interrupting Mikey with a shove to the side of his head. “Gentlemen. I believe we came here tonight for the time honored tradition of creating both havoc and mischief. Neither in which are––”, the ironically sophisticated cadence he was using faltered as Ray took a drink from a plastic water bottle he had been keeping in his coat pocket with his pinky up. They all erupted with laughter. 

“–Happening…” Frank finally said with some effort, clutching his stomach. 

“You’re Right.” Ray said, a giggle making his face split into an infectious grin.

Mikey wordlessly unzipped the backpack sitting in his lap to reveal several rolls of toilet paper, some spray paint and a can of cheese whiz. That must have been what he was talking about earlier in the car. Frank laughed, feeling a touch stupid.

“Oh you shouldn’t have, Mr. Way. ” Frank said, looking down pleased at him.

“Follow me.” Mikey said, and climbed into the encased plastic slide they had been sitting next to.

*******

The doorbell rang.

“Happy birthday, Frank!” Mikey and Ray were on the porch posing threateningly in their costumes when he opened the front door. They grabbed for him, roughhousing him over the threshold and onto the porch. After some back slapping and mussing of his hair they broke away laughing.

“Thanks, guys.” Frank said, breathing hard. He was dressed as a discount store version of Dracula, red and black satin costume fabric cape tied loosely around the hood of his black sweatshirt and heat-morph plastic fangs capped over his canines.

“You didn’t dress up!” Ray said grinning. He was painted up like a zombie, hair and fake blood everywhere and his clothes all filthy and ripped on purpose.

“Yeah, what happened to putting effort into shit..” Mikey was wearing his coat with the fur trim and a Ghostface mask with his glasses taped in place over the eyeholes. He had a pillowcase full of candy that he was slowly unwrapping and feeding through the mouth of the mask. If Frank was close enough he could probably hear the crunching of a Twix bar coming from behind the distorted vinyl face.

“It would be a fuckin' crime to cover this mug.” Frank smiled menacingly, baring his new pointed teeth. “Plus..There will be girls at the party, right?”

Mikey and Ray started shoving him again, resuming their play fight.

From behind Ray and Mikey leaves crunched on the drive and a previously unseen Gerard stepped up onto the porch. Frank saw his lace-up boots before anything else.

“Hey, Happy birthday.”

Mikey had Frank in a headlock when Frank tossed his cape out of the way from where it was over his head and looked up. There was a quieting between everyone, then Mikey finally released him with a snicker from inside his mask. 

“You’re..–– _uh._ Thanks.” If he sounded like he was mortified or suddenly without brain cells right then it was because he was. “Thank you.”

Clearly Gerard was the only one who took the costume thing seriously. He was dressed as a skeleton, black shirt and pants decorated with bones painted onto them, his face was made up into a simplified skull that blew out his features and sculpted an exaggeration of the structure of his face. He had his hair pushed back, perhaps with pomade instead of grease and a dazzling burst of black glitter on his eyelids that made them look glossy. He was surveying all three of them from where he was standing, and his eyes looked even more huge than they already were. He paired all this with his favorite beat up leather jacket and a pair of fingerless gloves since it was cold. He was striking, all long-limbed and black and white contrast. Like someone had ripped him out of a _Tim Burton_ flick, gaunt and otherworldly and _androgynous._ He was going to be impossible to miss that night when they got to the house party.

Frank’s mom came and stood in the threshold behind Frank, Mikey and Ray. She clapped, whistling low. “Well, don’t you look sharp, Gerard. Did you do all that yourself?”

“Thanks Ma’am. Actually, my grandma helped me.” Gerard replied, bone white lips moving sideways around a lit cigarette that was pluming smoke between his eyebrows. He smiled polite, looking shy in his posture and brushing himself off with his hands. How he was standing was a complete tonal mishmash against his attention demanding costume. His hazel eyes drifted from Frank’s mom’s face back down to Frank who was a few feet away from him, settling there. Simply looking into him neutrally. Sort of through him again with nothing behind it.

Frank’s mouth felt dry. 

***

The boys sat lined up on the porch. Frank’s mom was flitting back and forth behind them, going inside the house and back to where they were. Bringing them snacks and asking them how their parents were doing.

Gerard and Ray were staring intently at Mikey who was sitting between them, Frank on the end next to Ray. Mikey looked up from his stash of candy that he was still eating. His feet were turned in towards each other. He looked delicate like this.

An uncomfortable silence set in before Mikey looked from Ray’s face to Gerard’s realizing what was happening under their focus.

“What? I didn’t forget.” He said. He rooted around in his coat, taking out a white security envelope that was unsealed. Mikey handed it to Frank from where he was sitting, the back of the envelope had ‘To: Frank’ written on it crudely with a messy drawing of a jack o'lantern nearby.

“What’s this?” Frank said.

“From all of us.” Ray said. He was smiling with all his teeth, zombie make up making him look wild. Frank noticed that he had some leaves in his hair to sell the just-crawled-out-of-the-grave look. 

_All of us_ , Frank thought, slipping his thumb under the lip of the envelope.

“Are you ready to…. Bust some ghosts?” Gerard seemed unable to contain his excitement from where he was sitting. His skeleton face paint was exaggerating a hopeful smile.

Frank took what was inside the envelope out and turned it over in his hands. Tickets. Four of them, stamped with a purple foil that gleamed in the light coming from the porch. 

“We are taking you, yes you...To the total dark ghost tour at The Huntington Family Mystery Mansion.” Gerard said gesturing with both of his hands like a gameshow hostess. It was odd to Frank that he was suddenly being so engaged with him. He probably wanted to check out whatever this was too...At least enough to throw some of his own money into a gift for his brother’s friend who he didn’t know very well.

“Wait, wait… The antique museum?” Frank asked.

“See, I knew he wouldn’t like it!” Ray said, directed at Mikey.

“I actually have no idea what this is, guys.” Frank was quick to add.

“It’s a flashlight ghost walk at the museum in that old mansion on the hill. It looked cool and like something you’d like. Like House on Haunted Hill shit.” Mikey was chewing on a twizzler through the hole in his mask and it was hanging out of it like a snake’s tongue. Everyone turned to look at him.

“Exactly,” Gerard agreed.

“The tickets are for next week.” Ray said. What he didn’t say though, was that it was his idea and that he was the one to pool together all their money to buy Frank his birthday present.

Frank was flipping the tickets over in his hands again. They were dated for next Saturday. “This is really cool, guys. Thanks.”

Ray looked relieved.

Mikey got up first. It was getting close to ten o’clock and they had made the decision to arrive at least an hour after the party started at Biology Girl’s house in order to make a smooth entrance into a house of intoxicated mostly strangers. That way everyone would be nice and loose and ready to let them siphon their alcohol without them needing to have brought their own. 

"Bye, boys." Frank’s mom said, coming out one last time to send them off. She raised her eyebrows at them as if she could hear all of them inwardly pining to get drunk as they rose from the porch. She patted the masked Mikey on the shoulder, leaning close to his ear as if Frank couldn’t hear.

“Don’t let him drink too much.”

“Of course, Miss Iero.” Mikey said.

“Mom. Please...Don’t worry.” Frank said.

Frank’s mom frowned at him, giving him a knowing look.


	2. Halloween

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks again to my favorite goblin for looking over my work.
> 
> Loosely Beta'd, forgive me. 
> 
> Happy Halloween, sorry 4 party rockin'.

_“Do not think that I am not sad, though I laugh.”_  
― **Bram Stoker, Dracula**

***  
They piled into Ray’s car, who agreed to be that night’s D.D. Twenty minutes later they were at Biology Girl’s house. Her name turned out to be Alicia, or it sounded like Alicia over the loud din of the party when she introduced herself. She was pleased to see Mikey when they arrived, already swaying a little with buzzed droopy eyelids. It was a miracle that she recognized him only by his glasses on the outside of the mask. 

She placed a sweating beer into Mikey’s hand when she greeted them on the porch. Then took him by the arm to presumably introduce him to everyone inside the house. 

As he was being whisked away, Mikey glanced back at his friends and gave a little wave.

“There he goes.” Ray said. They were all still outside and Frank was biting back a laugh with a vampire fang peeking over his lip as he shot Ray a disbelief filled glance. 

The three remaining boys stepped through the entryway of the house, shutting the door behind them. 

It was a restored craftsman in the nice part of town, the front windows had a stained glass detailing that looked expensive and the floor had wooden floral inlays that must have taken forever to set. Several people in costumes brushed past them where they were standing. An alien, the wolfman, a sexy nurse with bright red patent leather shoes.

Through a nearby breezeway they could see just how packed the place was that night. People had their cups in the air and were rocking together in the center of the room. The walls were lined with monsters, black cats and couples kissing. Those who weren’t dancing sat perched, covering the furniture. A fire hazard for the county.

“Drinks?” Gerard asked. He was looking around, his bottom lip jutting out to reveal a swath of pink that killed the illusion of his makeup. Music was thudding around them, no live band, instead the blare of top 40 complimenting college party noise. From somewhere unseen inside the house, several people cheered and there was a crash.

Frank and Ray nodded.

“I think we need to get the birthday boy’s pumpkin a little smashed. What do he thinks?” Gerard said.

“He thinks you’re right, but to can it with the euphemisms.” Frank said, emboldened enough to dish back. It was hard to look away from Gerard when he was dressed like that. Laughing with his eyes squinting and creating the look of black pits in his face like a real skull. They held eye contact briefly before Frank jutted his chin at him in challenge and shoved Gerard forward towards the kitchen. “Now move.”

***

  


It was late and the party was loud, they moved through the dim light of the hall together in a line. The house was full of shimmering string lights and colored bulbs in the light fixtures, all purple, orange and red. Fake cobwebs and hanging ghost decorations dangled from the ceiling. Speakers from deeper in the house were playing The Killer’s _Somebody Told Me_. A contemporary theme for their descent.

They were all following Gerard, who sure as hell didn’t know where he was going but was leading them like he did. The kitchen was at the end of the hall to the left of the entry. They slipped inside and found themselves alone. Gerard let Frank and Ray pass him in the doorway before sliding a previously unseen pocket door shut so they could have a little extra privacy.

Inside the kitchen was spacious, a reprise from the social interaction that couldn’t take place until alcohol. The floor was a scuffed black and white linoleum with a tear in it from the feet of kitchen chairs sitting around a square table that Frank was surprised no one was occupying. It was quieter there, the only other door in the room was a slider leading outside onto a porch where Frank could see people smoking across a sizable lawn and a swing set in the corner of the fence. 

“Damn, they weren’t playing when they said B.Y.O.B.” Frank remarked, none of them had in fact brought their own beer and thankfully everyone else was dumb enough or maybe drunk enough to leave their shit out unattended. 

All of the counters in the room were crammed with bottles of booze of every stripe. Glass and plastic. Some brightly colored stuff Frank had never even seen before that warned of danger like a poison dart frog. Several coolers lined the floor around the sink, it was a treasure trove of bad decisions waiting to happen.

Ray cracked one of the coolers open, hoping for a soda or a single beer since they weren’t leaving for a while. It was full of a purply-black liquid that had both ice and fruit floating around in it. “Jungle Juice.” He said with his face screwed up in disgust. He dropped the lid and it closed with a _thwuck._

Continuing his search, Ray opened the nearby fridge and found himself an indistinct IPA in an amber bottle. He twisted the cap off with his tattered sleeve covering his hand.

Frank made space on the counter, arranging several tall bottles of flavored _Skyy_ vodka and _Malibu_ coconut rum. He pushed his cape behind him and hopped up to sit on the surface, legs hanging over the bullnose edge. From there he was about as tall as Ray, taller than Gerard.

“So..Mikey and Biology Girl.” Frank started. He was examining a plastic bottle of something clear in his hand. Cheap gin. He peeled the label halfway off and crumpled it between his fingers.

“They’ve been texting like, all the time.” Gerard said. He was pulling two red plastic cups out of a neatly stacked pile from next to the farmhouse style sink.

“Good for him.” Ray said, taking another swig of beer. He had moved to lean in the corner of the counter, next to Frank.

“Couldn’t agree more.” Gerard was looking for something, cups in one hand and the other picking up and turning around the mess of bottles along the counter that was opposite of his friends. Frank swung his legs a little, enjoying the musical clinking of his skeleton friend’s pursuit.

Not finding exactly what he wanted, Gerard started piecing through the library of booze lined up next to Frank. His hand settled on a short, stout, thick-walled bottle with a goldenrod label. It was half full of deep brown liquid.

“There you are. How about a shot, Frank?” He turned the whiskey over in his hands and it had an illustration of a red devil looking menacing centered on the branding. “You ever try this?” 

Frank shook his head and Gerard’s impish grin split his face at his response. “It’s _good_.” Gerard said.

“Careful.” Ray said. “ _Fireball_ is dangerous stuff.” 

Gerard twirled the bottle with a loose wrist, wiggling his painted eyebrows at Ray. “Don’t scare him...”

Frank leaned forward onto his elbows and let his chin rest in his hands. He worried at his lip ring, thinking. He couldn’t understand what the fuss was about. Plenty of people drank whiskey. With Coke or as a shot. Plus nothing tasted better than free, and someone was pouring it for him and it was his birthday, right? Right. One couldn't hurt.

Gerard was twisting the cap off before he could disagree and craned the neck of the whiskey bottle into a cup intended for Frank. Fingerless gloves then gingerly handed him the shot.

A sense of reaching a threshold hung in the air.

Frank looked into the drink with some suspicion. He felt like it was somehow looking back at him. “It smells bad.”

Ray leaned over the red plastic solo cup to give it a sniff. “Like a candle.”

Gerard was pouring himself a shot of _Fireball_ up to the bottom line of his own cup that indicated a perfect ounce and a half of liquor. “You’re supposed to _drink_ it, not smell it.” he said, swirling his shot inside the cup, a flourish that truly suited the glitter of his getup. He must of liked how he looked that night. He capped the bottle and placed it back onto the counter.

“Yeah.” Frank said. He was still looking into the cup. “You first.”

“No, together.” Gerard said, extending his arm. “Cheers, congratulations on being born.” 

Frank and Ray did the same, Ray tapping his beer into their plastic cups and saying “Clink.”

Frank took the shot. He tilted his head back and instantly realized that Gerard had poured him a double that didn’t quite fit inside his mouth. The strong aroma of cinnamon made his nose wrinkle as he swallowed the thick sugary whiskey with difficulty. It was like cough syrup that tasted like Christmas. Warmth spread in his stomach instantly, coating his insides. A piece of him regretted the greasy veggie burgers they all ate before they left.

“Ugh,” he said, wincing. Frank coughed. “Fuck, what _is_ that?”

Gerard was already pouring another one into the cup that was in Frank’s hand, smiling at him. “Tonight the spirits walk the earth. This will help you see them better.”

Frank had no idea what that meant but he wasn’t about to argue with the wild-eyed skeleton who was supplying his underage self with alcohol.

***

Frank was feeling very very _very_ good. Very smiley, very happy and loose and it was hard for him to stop moving. A handful of shots, several mixed drinks and beers later and he was a miracle on his feet. Like Icarus flying too close to the sun, wax wings melting and streaming off of him. He was at the beginning of his long tumble into the night and his legs were jello and the house was sideways and everything was a sensory experience to behold, only to be tragically forgotten inside of tomorrow’s headache.

He was wasted. 

Frank and Ray had eventually caught up with Mikey in the corner of the living room after he was mostly done spending time with Biology Girl Alicia. They had been dancing incredibly poorly to _Thriller_ when he appeared behind them looking disheveled. He had lipstick smeared around his neck where his mask was riding up.

“Where’s Gee?” Mikey said over the noise. He pushed his mask up to sit on top of his head.

Frank and Ray had zero idea of where Gerard was. He had slipped away through the crowd of costumed party goers about an hour ago. He probably had gone to get another drink, or to bum a light off of someone. He had been complaining earlier about forgetting his _Zippo_.

“I dunno’” Frank slurred. He was chewing the rim of his cup, moving out of time to the music.

“Same, man.” Ray added. “Maybe outside?”

With his mask up, Mikey dutifully sucked on a _Ring Pop_ that was stuck on his finger. His mouth was a bright blue again, a repeat of the result of his _Slurpee_ choice from the other day. “I guess he’ll have to miss it then. ” He said. “It’s time.”

Ray nodded and Mikey pulled his mask back down. Mikey turned around and Ray ducked his head between his legs. With some struggling they teetered left then right. Ray stood again, grunting and lifting Mikey into the air on his shoulders. Frank was drunk, but he knew this had been practiced.

“Come on, Frank.” One of them said, Ray grabbed him by the sleeve and pulled him to the center of the crowd with Mikey still balancing on his shoulders. People were starting to look at them. They were waving the room down.

“Hey! Everyone!” Mikey yelled, voice cracking. “Hey!”

“Hey! Shut up!” Frank decided that he was yelling too. Not completely understanding what they were doing at the time, but he could never not help his friends.

“Everyone look!” Mikey said. “Everyone, this is important. You guys! Shut the fuck up!”

Everyone was actually looking then, turned inwards towards them.

“Turn that shit off, we have an announcement!” Mikey said and Frank thought this was funny. It wasn't apparent that Mikey had this in him. Below, Ray had one hand on Mikey’s knee keeping steady and the other balled in Frank’s cape so he wouldn’t wander off. 

The music cut, leaving only conversation in the room of partygoers.

“It’s Frank’s birthday!” Mikey said, he was pointing down at his friend from where he was on Ray’s shoulders. “ This is Frank! We have to sing him Happy Birthday.”

Someone in the crowd behind them groaned. Biology Girl Alicia appeared next to them, waving a _Smirnoff Ice_ over her head. She whooped. “Guy’s let’s sing Happy Birthday to Frank!” If she wasn’t there things would have probably have gone much differently from that point, considering that it was her house.

Frank felt eyes on him, felt his ears get hot. Felt himself smiling with his plastic vampire teeth showing. In a broken drunk unison everyone started singing, an eruption of noise directed at him. When they finished someone started clapping and there were several “ _And many more’s_!”. Another person punched him in the arm.

“Happy birthday, Frank!”

“Happy birthday, Frankie.”

“Hey, man. Happy birthday, dude.”

He didn’t know them, whoever these people were. He recognized several faces maybe. It was the time of night where Everyone was drunk enough to be his friend.

***

Afterwards, A less drunk Mikey helped Frank take his fangs out before he swallowed them, after one fell off into his second rum and Coke.

“You need to sit.” Mikey said and walked him out of the crowded room into the hall. Ray was in tow behind them. “Come on, up here.” He helped frank up the staircase, making him sit at the top of the landing by pushing down on his shoulders. “Stay here, I’m getting you some water.”

“That’s _so_ nice, dude.” Frank said, worrying his lower lip, acutely fascinated by the feeling of the ring in it between his teeth.

“Sit.” Mikey said, “ _Stay_.” He was waving his hands over him like that would somehow influence him not to move. He walked back down to the bottom of the steps.

“Ray I gotta pee like a racehorse. Can you get our sweet baby some water while I...?” Mikey said, giving him a pleading look. “Please say yes. You’re saying yes.”

“Is he safe up there?” Ray said, leaning against the railing at the bottom of the stairs.

“The safest. No one will steal him here.”

“Mikey..”

Mikey was laughing quietly at his own response. “I’m going pee. Everyone do what they need to be doing. Sitting.. Water.. Be back after… _Go._ ”

Ray gave them both a sidelong look on his way to find some water for Frank, he knew what he had signed up for when he offered to drive tonight but he had his own concerns.

*******

About fifteen minutes later Frank was happily leaning against the bannister at the top of the stairs when someone came from behind him and sat down.

“Hello,” came a soft mumbling voice. He turned his head, a delayed reaction in his state. “Hi birthday boy.” 

Frank was getting tired of people calling him that– But it was a girl. _Oh_. She was sitting next to him. He was working very hard to place where he had seen her face. Gears turned, his brain decided to be kind with the memory he was looking for. “I know you. We have class.”

“Yeah, and you always sit in the back. _Why_?”

“Comfortable.” Frank said. 

“Mm.” She replied. Frank finally recognized her face. They did in fact currently have class together. They did a whole project together. Amazing how alcohol had brought them back together again here when they would have otherwise never spoken.

“Taking a break?” She said.

“Yeah,”

“That’s good.” She said, blinking slow.

“I like your costume.” Frank said.

She was dressed as Sandy from Grease, black skin tight pants and leather jacket falling off her shoulders included. He couldn’t remember her name. It started with a ‘J’. Jenny, or Julia, or Jeannie. He felt bad for being unable to remember.

“And what are you supposed to be?” She said, letting his eyes roam over her in admiration. 

“A vampire. Lost my teeth though.” Frank replied.

She laughed and pitched forward unsteadily, perhaps as equally messed up as he was. “So, earlier... Is it true that it’s your birthday?” 

It was all so unexpected. They were sitting facing each other on either side of the stair, she rested her hands onto his knees where they were touching hers warmly. How long had that been going on? _Oh I get it_ , thought Frank. _That’s what’s happening_. 

“Yup.” His eyes felt so heavy under their veil of intoxication. It took a moment for him to remember that he was talking, voice creaky and tired. “I was born today. Several years ago, actually.”

“ _Yeah_?” She said and Frank felt her short nails scrape over his jeans. His eyes followed, noting the pink varnish she was wearing. Her voice was soft, a syrupy slurring. She was really looking at him then. “Good job.” Jenny or Julia said. 

Frank looked at her mouth, marveling at the curve of her cupid’s bow. She was really very pretty, and she was in front of him, and she was touching him. On his birthday.

For a moment they were just gazing at each other. Frank swallowed, throat feeling thick as he continued to watch her mouth. She still had her palms on his knees.

“You wanna kiss me now?” Her voice was even softer than before.

“You’re drunk.” Frank said, and he felt the apples of his cheeks rise, his face was numb. He was drunk too.

“So are you." She agreed, as if his thinking was too loud. "–And It’s bad luck to not be kissed on your birthday, Fred.”

“Frank.” He corrected.

“Uh- _huh_ … It’s bad luck.” She was leaning on him, he could smell her breath and perfume and it was distinctly feminine. Flowers and peach schnapps. “You wanna be unlucky for a whole year?” 

A lock of her hair fell in her face, he reached to brush it behind her ear before he could comprehend that he was doing it. _I'm already unlucky_ , he thought.

“I don’t think I want that.” Frank said.

“Me either.” Her voice was just above a whisper so he had to lean in even closer to hear. It was an example of irresistible smoothness that made his drunk self’s knees weak, because it was a move that worked. Thank god he was sitting down.

She kissed him. It was messy and clumsy and they were sitting on the landing of the stairs away from the party. 

He felt fingers carding through his hair, she was rubbing her thumbs behind his ears and sliding her tongue along the seam of his mouth. He opened. All he could focus on was the kiss, searing hot and making the nerves in the center of his face tingle like running your hand over the static-y glass of a television screen. They stayed like this, just kissing, completely lost in the occasional knock of their teeth and warm spit-slick slide of booze-sweet tongues.

 _God_ , Frank thought, and there was nothing left as far as inhibition went to stop him from making a low keening noise into her mouth. She was touching his face and his chest, breathing in his air. Frank cupped the back of her head holding her close. This could have been anyone. _Anyone_ could have kissed him like this in his state, he thought. He was so lost, so gone. He wanted to climb on top of her, wanted to be pulled close. He was letting her take control and she seemed to be expecting something from him with her body language as she leaned into him. Maybe she felt like that too. Didn’t care who it was, didn’t care who he was. He just happened to be in the right place at the right time and available for kissing. She pulled his hair gently and he was putty in her hands, unaware of the needy sound he made as her fingers tightened.

She broke away first and Frank looked disappointed. Her eyes darted around his face like she was trying to figure out what to say. He angled himself forward with the intention to kiss her again, but she ducked her head and he pressed his face into her hair.

“Need to find my friends,” she said.

He couldn’t tell if they had been kissing for five minutes or half an hour, but when he turned his swimming head to look at the bottom of the stairs Ray and Mikey were standing together with their eyebrows heading towards their hairlines. Mikey with his mask pushed and up to the side grinning broadly, loving that he had busted his friend getting some on his birthday night, or perhaps getting close to being as equally toasty as Frank.

“You know them?” Jenny asked.. Or Julia… Jeanie.. She was reaching into his sweatshirt front pocket to take his phone out. She flipped it open and started pressing buttons.

“My friends.” Frank said. He was breathing a little raggedly, thoroughly kissed with his hair a messy halo around his features. 

She stood up from the staircase a little unsteadily then laughed and tossed Frank’s phone into his lap where he was still sitting dazed. 

“Thanks, Frank.” She took his chin into her hand and tilted his face up. He let her, no resistance present and looking stupid-eyed up at her. “Be a good boy for the rest of the night.” Frank’s train of thought went fuzzy here as he concentrated on not actually sliding down the stairs both from being inebriated and her directions.

The next thing he knew he had another plastic cup being tilted into his mouth. Ray was back at his side, patting his shoulder and encouraging him to drink something that wasn’t going to further bring him closer to the complete obliteration of his liver. Not that they would ever let Frank get too far gone, but he was the youngest and therefore the least experienced in their friend group. He wasn’t allowed to die face down on the lawn outside.

 *******  
Things continued heading downhill the deeper into the night Frank went. A holey patchwork quilt of memories to try and stitch together later.

Frank had stolen himself away from the party to smoke, swaying towards the screen door in the kitchen with his feet shuffling across the patterned linoleum. He was giggling to himself, abandoning a bottle of beer on a shelf and barely making it over the slider’s threshold without falling through it.

Yes, a cigarette. That would help him regroup. It sounded so good. He shuffled off the porch and along the side of the house. He bounced into the wall, digging through his pockets for a smoke. With a cigarette between his lips he flicked his disposable lighter to life and took a long drag. Nicotine hit his bloodstream, a comforting hug of a feeling that made him instantly relax. It was so nice to smoke outside on a cold night, his exhale mixing with the steam of his breath.

The Halloween moon was hanging overhead in the deep canopy of night. Bright stars freckled the sky, pinpricks of white light through a blue-black canvas.

He was burning his cigarette down to the filter, two fingers holding it against his lips as he leaned against the stucco side of the house. More stained glass here too, he noticed. A colorful square of light was illuminating a patch of grass near his feet. 

It looked beautiful. Frank entertained the idea of spending time on such a thing that could only be appreciated in certain ways at certain times of the day. As if the alcohol was giving him some secret knowledge that was previously buried in his mind... Only to be unlocked by the horrible cinnamon whiskey that clung to his taste buds. He wished for a pen and a piece of paper to record this before thinking, _Wow, I’m drunk._

He clumsily lit himself another cigarette after discarding his first and a familiar laugh caught his slowed attention.

Gerard was across the yard chatting with someone he recognized from his freshman comp class. A big guy in an undead fireman costume. He was nodding and laughing loudly, giving Gerard a pat on the shoulder.

The guy he was with seemed very interested in Gerard. He was interested in their conversation, talking with his hands in big sweeping gestures. 

From where Frank was the glitter around Gerard’s eyes made them look wet and sunken in. As he inhaled smoke again Frank thought about earlier that evening, sitting on the counter while Gerard poured him drinks. It wasn’t fair that someone could look so unintentionally elegant in everything they did. Frank pushed his hair behind his ears. It was freezing, but he felt hot inside his sweatshirt. He had to remind himself that this was the same Gerard who spent days hoarding himself away in a wood-panel-lined subterranean room full of movie memorabilia that he was thinking about right now. _Why_ was this where his mind was sending him?

Another birthday, the night nearly gone. This was supposed to be fun, _right_? He had fun tonight, _didn’t he_? With his friends, and the drinks and that girl whose name he didn’t know. He hated himself for that, not knowing. _Kissing_ her, making that noise into her mouth. _So_ embarrassing. Would she tell her friends? ––He startled himself, dropping his burned down cigarette when it scorched his fingers.

He looked across the yard again and Gerard was peering at him over his friend’s shoulder. His chin was tilted down. At least Frank thought he was looking at him. _No_ , he was. He definitely was. Frank could barely comprehend what was happening, brain having the worst time keeping up with his body. He felt himself rocking from side to side, his vision a blurred mess. 

Gerard was looking at him and smiling his little tight-lipped skeleton smile from all the way across the grass.

Yes, he was definitely being caught.

He turned his head too quickly, uncomfortable and trying to look busy. Like meeting eyes with Gerard was a casual accident. He was dizzy and found himself unable to fight the urge to double over. His head was spiraling off somewhere and like a carousel horse.

Frank braced a hand on the side of the house, the rough texture of the stucco cold under his palm. He wanted to rest his numb and tingling face against it. He spit. Where was Mikey and Ray? 

He looked up again, barely able to make out the black silhouette of Gerard’s hair and leather jacket through the smeared wipe of his gaze. His back was turned to him, still talking to the fireman.

He had fun tonight, right? This was fun. A familiar emptiness was settling into his chest. That’s what he had been fighting off all night, feeling empty.

“ ‘ _M..So messed up_ …” He was mumbling to himself, it was more about how he had drank too much. 

Frank spilled the contents of his stomach onto the lawn, throat burning with the taste of cinnamon. Maybe empty suited him.

***

That night after his friends dragged him inside, laughing and attempting to be quiet so as to not wake his mom up, when he fell into bed after thanking them, Frank dreamt of hands sliding up his sides and into his shirt. He was at the top of the landing again, sitting in the purple and orange light. He dreamt of fingers in his hair tugging and nails dragging against his scalp.

Then he was sliding down the staircase into a comfortable darkness.

Frank was pinned in his dream, arms held above his head firmly as the black silhouette of someone he couldn’t place leaned down over him, looking. He felt the grip on his arms tighten, the face of the person or creature or what the hell ever his mind could have created and woven out of the aether for him to experience close to his. It was breathing his air.

He dreamt of the feeling of grease paint on his mouth as someone kissed him, smearing color all over his lips. Black and white that would stain, glitter on his fingertips. Frank dreamt of fingers pressing past his teeth and against his tongue, of denim and leather and the taste of cigarette smoke.

****


	3. Stormy Day, Early November

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi, freaks. Thanks for sticking with me here.
> 
> Kissing in next part, I swear.
> 
> TY 2 my beloved goblin as per usual. For reading and more bad ideas.
> 
> Lightly beta'd. Sorry if mistakey.

_“We seem to be drifting into unknown places and unknown ways.”_  
― **Bram Stoker, Dracula**

***

**Misfitz4Eva** : helllllllllllllp

**Misfitz4Eva** : u gotta save me

**Misfitz4Eva** : ughhhgghgh 

**xX_D00m3dToast** : mmwhat you ok?

**Misfitz4Eva** : no!!!!

**Misfitz4Eva** : mikey look at the calendar

_xX_D00m3dToast is typing..._

**xX_D00m3dToast** : november?

**Misfitz4Eva** : look again please

**xX_D00m3dToast** : trying to invite urself over... frank?

**xX_D00m3dToast** : tsk tsk, i expected better from you. :P

**Misfitz4Eva** : ...

**xX_D00m3dToast** : im probably going out later with ray but you can come over if u want.

**xX_D00m3dToast** i got you ;P 

***  
It was the middle of the week and it looked like rain. Misty gray weather making it necessary for a heavy jacket and thick socks if you were going outside. Frank ended up at the Way’s house after class let out, first stopping at home to let his mom know that he needed a ride there. She was having her wine-book-tupperware club at theirs this week and he didn’t feel like having her friends dote over him for several hours. Nor did he want to hide cooped up in his room while they laughed about whatever _Nicholas Sparks_ title they were working through with zinfandel-purple teeth.

His mom, so pleased that Frank seemed to be nurturing real friendships after such a rough high school career, happily drove him. She kissed his forehead and told him to call if he needed to be picked up later. He felt grateful for this as he unbuckled his seatbelt and slid his backpack onto his shoulder. As she drove away he waved.

The Way brother’s basement was definitely weird, but comfortable. It was crammed full of furniture and what little sunlight there was came streaming in from a single tiny window no more than maybe eight inches tall. The room was almost always a mess, Gerard’s many eccentric interests strewn all over the floor and a tetris of bric-a-brac cluttering the walls as well as every flat surface. It was all comics and art supplies and RPG junk. Like the dregs of a nerd convention had exploded inside.

But it was familiar, and oddly cozy. And Frank was feeling comfortably fuzzy, elated and a little stoned. Maybe this wasn't the best decision on a school night... However, Mikey had handed him a lit joint as soon as he walked through the door before letting him know that he was going to be getting ready upstairs for what was actually kind of a date. Frank had frowned at him until he added that he would be taking Gerard’s car to get something for them to eat when he was dressed. He could have kissed him, really. For being so good.

“––Wait, but with who?”

“Biology Girl and her friends. Me and Ray are gonna meet them at the movies tonight.” Mikey said.

“ _Oh._ ”

Downstairs in the basement Frank found himself sitting quietly, curled up on the ruined corduroy loveseat in the corner of the space. It was in front of Gerard’s bed and facing the wall with the TV against it. He was reading a discarded issue of _PC Gamer_ with a remarkably clean-in-comparison-to-everything-else blanket over his lap.

Diagonally behind him and across the room, Gerard was working on some kind of art project. He had barely turned his head to nod at Frank when he came down the stairs, a move Frank recognized as him not wanting to break focus. 

It was cool, Frank was there to see Mikey. He didn’t have a problem with staying out of Gerard's way while he worked, since technically he was under his merciful care as their guest. Plus he let him smoke in the basement, and didn’t mind whenever he waited downstairs for Mikey to come back from the kitchen or sometimes from his once weekly night class so they could play _Playstation_ together.

Frank turned the page, dreamily sighing over an image of one of the monsters from an older _Resident Evil_ title. His skin was feeling tingly and the texture of the couch beneath him was very interesting in his stony state. He ran his hand over the tear that was along the seam on the square arm of the sofa. 

_So nice_.

Gerard was hunched over a canvas that was slotted into a sitting easel. He placed the pencil he had been holding between his teeth so he could card fingers through the back of his unwashed hair, his bangs pushed back under a pair of beat up headphones. He was plugged in via an extra long cable to the nearby record player that was going. His set up looked chaotic and like exactly what you would imagine for him to be comfortable in. 

_A mess_ , Frank thought.

It was late afternoon but Gerard had a steaming ceramic mug of coffee and a lit cigarette dangling in one hand, a soft drawing pencil in the other. 6B,That’s what he used. He told him that once. The marks Gerard was making would indicate such. Deep shiny gray strokes coming from his shoulder instead of his wrist. Community college made you take at least one art class, _okay_? Frank knew what a drawing with a 6B pencil could look like.

And maybe a little hyper-aware of his surroundings right then.

He realized that he was no longer looking at the magazine. Instead squinting at the drawing Gerard and the scratchy outline of a terrifying face he was making come to life on the surface in front of him.

“6B,” Frank murmured, barely audible from the other side of the room. 

As if he could feel Frank looking at him, Gerard turned around. Frank wondered if he was breathing too loud or something, choosing to quickly look busy and reabsorb himself in _PC Gamer_. 

“It looks good.” Frank said, face pointed at the magazine in his lap.

“Thanks.”

And maybe Gerard unnerved him, always seemingly thinking about something that wasn’t there. A story or a drawing he wanted to get out of his system. The guy lived in his head and Frank wondered if he ever even slept because of how busy he made himself with his art and other hobbies. He could sit drawing focused for hours, or would manically flit between projects, drawings, paintings, making notes in journals and poorly playing an out of tune guitar in the basement. More unnerving and unusual though, was when Gerard was really actually looking at you. In these moments Frank always felt studied.

When what felt like a half hour or so passed, Gerard moved his headphones to rest around his neck and was tapping at his front teeth with his pencil. Frank knew this was happening based on the sound of it, as well as several exasperated “ _Hmm_ ’s” that generally indicated that Gerard was running out of art fuel.

His eyes flicked up from a think piece about _Left 4 Dead_ that he had read twice already and hadn’t retained any of when Gerard said “Movie?”

Frank gave a marijuana-delayed nod.

*******

On the couch they watched _Nightmare on Elm Street_ , followed by _Ginger Snaps_ , which Frank had never seen before. Then Gerard took an unmarked _Blockbuster_ DVD case out of a grocery bag and tossed it at Frank along with a packet of M&M’s that softly hit him in the chest.

Frank cracked open the injection-molded case with a satisfying snap and then looked up at Gerard like he had shot his dog. “Dude, _this_ movie?”

“Oh, come on.” Gerard tilted his head. “Aren’t you curious what all the hype is about?”

“No, It’s for _girls_.” Frank said.

“–And sensitive creative souls, just like yourself.” Gerard said, a playful lilt in his cadence.

Frank made a low annoyed noise, feeling his ears warm underneath his hair.

Gerard was moving around the room then, kneeling in front of the DVD player to take the previous disk out, switching it for the new one. He went to the warm-colored stained wood dresser at his bedside and rifled through it before finding what he was looking for and pulling on one of his sweatshirts.

It was getting cold, from the tiny basement window the day was progressing into the evening. A glimpse of the dark cloud-cover overhead through the tiny slot window.

“Oh, by the way.” Gerard said, looking inspired. “This is also for your birthday. I didn’t want to give it to you in front of your mom.” The crinkling of a paper bag coming untucked from the side of the bed got Frank’s attention. Gerard pulled out a bottle of dark spiced rum from its wrapping.

“Sailor Jerry’s?” Frank said, taking the glass bottle when Gerard handed it to him. He turned it over in his hands and the amber booze inside tipped around. The label was decorated in American traditional tattoo flash, a hula girl and diving swallows. He cracked the sealed top and smelled it, nose bit by the strength. 

“You said you liked tattoos. And this is the guy..” Gerard was trailing off. “Or really, this is the rum inspired by the guy.”

“Dude, tight. Thank you.” Frank meant it. This was a thoughtful gift since his fake I.D. was for someone named ‘Derrick’ in Nevada and looked nothing like him.

The sound of a door opening made them both turn their heads. 

Mikey was at the top of the creaking basement stairs then, walking down while looking at the screen of his flip phone in one hand. He had two bags of _Burger King_ in his arms.

“Hey.” He said without looking up.

“Mikey,” Frank greeted him, getting up to help him with the food which they parsed accordingly by who ordered what on the beat up coffee table in front of the T.V.

“What’re we watching?” Mikey said, he was already tucking into his food and bit into a Ketchup-dipped french fry.

“Frank wants to watch _Twilight_.” Gerard said.

Mikey barked a laugh. “I knew it.” He said. “I knew you had a type.” 

A handful of french fries hit Mikey in the face, knocking his glasses askew.

***

They all had moved to sit on Gerard’s bed, Frank leaning against a pile of pillows and surprisingly clean laundry that hadn’t been folded. Gerard and Mikey were laying on their stomachs, elbows bent up to cradle their heads. They really looked like brothers when they were unintentionally mirroring each other like this.

On the television screen a Doe-eyed Bella Swan stood in an overgrown clearing of the misty Washington state forest.

Her chest heaved as a billow of steaming breath escaped her lips. It was cold in Forks, apparently. Frank wouldn’t know, he had never been to the west coast. Edward was following behind her, making himself known by stepping out from behind a tree. The color grading was so weird in this film, and made everything seem too blue or too green.

She stopped in her tracks and started to speak.

“ _You’re.. impossibly fast. And Strong._ ” The camera then cut to a close up of her face, her lips flushed from the cool air. “ _Your skin is pale white, and ice cold_.”

“Mmmm.. My _hero_.” Frank chided, a close impression of _Mickey Mouse_.

Mikey laughed.

The camera cut to Edward this time, pale and with his head tilted down. They had put the poor lug in colored contacts. He was stalking towards her with his fists clenched.

“ _Your eyes change color and sometimes you speak like, like you’re from a different time_ ” Bella went on.

“Do they even _like_ each other?” Mikey complained from where he had moved and was camped, sitting at the foot of the bed. He had his arms wrapped around a throw pillow.

“Shut up, I think he’s gonna kill her.” Frank whispered too-loud with his hand cupped around his mouth.

“ _I know what you are._ ” Bella said, voice shaky from the flickering television.

“ _Say it._ ” Edward breathed over the brunette’s shoulder. “ _Outloud._ ” They were now standing uncomfortably close together.

“He’s _hungry_. Poor baby.” Gerard said. 

“ _Say it_.” Edward said again.

“ _Vampire_.” Bella’s voice faltered, a look of terror on her face. All three boys in the basement groaned and white kernels of microwave popcorn rained at the television screen.

The movie was terrible. The trio was laughing through the entirety of it, repeating lines mockingly back at an uncomfortable looking _Kristen Stewart_ and _Robert Pattinson_... Who looked consistently to be on the verge of puking.

“This is total bullshit.” Gerard laughed, swiping a hand over his face.”Vampires are nothing like this!”

Mikey and Frank eyed each other, then turned back to Gerard whose expression was completely serious.

“According to who?” Frank said, chewing. He was scooping a palm full of Popcorn into his mouth and had an arm folded behind his head, spread out on one side of the bed.

There was a pause. Mikey and Gerard shared another look between themselves. Mikey shook his head, eyes rolling. 

“The creator of contemporary horror, _Mary Shelley_. Do you live under a rock?”

“Do you? _Mary Shelley_ wrote _Frankenstein_. _Dracula_ was written by _Bram Stoker_.” Frank said.

“Oh _whatever_ , it was required reading forever ago.” Gerard interjected.

“Okay, _Vlad_. Then what are vampires actually like?” Frank said.

“Well..” Gerard started…

Mikey’s phone buzzed, chiming loudly on the low table in front of the T.V.. He got up excitedly and excused himself. He was padding back up the stairs as he flipped it open to take the call. “Hey Ray, yeah. Be there in a sec, gotta get my coat.”

“Bye Mik–” Frank and Gerard said at the same time, but before they could finish the door slammed.

For a moment all that could be heard was the television.

“Where is he going, again?” Gerard asked, eyes still on the stairs where his brother had just been.

“Movies with Ray, Biology Girl and her friends. It’s not a date if you bring your friends…” Frank said, shrugging his shoulders.

Gerard gave a soft thoughtful “Hmm” in agreement. Without turning his head his eyes moved to meet Frank’s. “Move.”

“ _Wha_ ––?”

“I said _move _. Gimme.” Gerard sat up rolling over and grabbing one of the pillows from under Frank. He was yanking at it and for a moment he craned over his smaller form looking down at his face, hair everywhere. Frank yelped and jerked to one side. With another firm tug the pillow slid out from under his back.__

Gerard set the pillow against the opposite side of the clean laundry pile, so he could lean propped up on top of the rumpled comforter that was spread out over the bed.

“For fuck’s sake..” Frank said.

Frank reorganized the clean clothes and remaining pillows on the bed into a serviceable new shape for him to lay against. He got comfortable again, attention settling back on the movie which had been playing this entire time in the background. Not that it was the most interesting thing in the room anymore.

“Wanna try the rum?” Gerard asked, but it came out more like he was telling him.

“Good idea.” Frank said. He was already leaning over the edge of the bed and getting it out of the paper bag where it had been sitting off to the side next to his backpack.

It wasn’t an elegant ritual, passing the bottle back and forth between each other and chasing swallows of warm _Sailor Jerry_ ’s with their fountain drinks from their dinner.

Three swigs and one coughing fit later Frank extended the bottle to Gerard and said “Yeah, so... Vampires...” Frank was hoping for a debate or even better an argument, he had consumed a lot of vampire related movies and books. “Please, Gerard. Educate me.”

There was a glimmer of something Frank couldn’t put his thumb on in Gerard’s expression and then he laughed, grinning big with his teeth. “Okay, see...Well, to start. They aren’t like, dead.”

“Yeah?” Frank said, sucking a long drink in from the straw in his cup. He twisted the cap back onto the bottle of rum when Gerard passed it back, deciding that they had had enough.

“Yeah, and they can go in the sun and don’t sleep in coffins.” Gerard said.

“...And you’re the expert?”

“ _Yes_ , that would be me.” Gerard said with a good helping of conviction. He raised his eyebrows. “The vampire expert.”

“You’re so full of shit.” Frank said. He set the bottle on the nearby T.V. tray next to the bed where the ashtray was.

Gerard was laughing again. "So, I was wrong about _Dracula_. I'll own that. The other stuff is true though."

Frank felt a weird heaviness as Gerard’s gaze roamed over his face, his eyes half lidded. He was chewing on the straw of his soda cup.

Frank’s breath caught in his chest.

“ _I can show you_.” A voice echoed inside Frank’s head. Gerard’s voice. But that was impossible. it wasn’t coming from anywhere near where he was sitting across from him, like he was hallucinating it and for a moment his vision crossed. He touched his left ear, wavering to the side. 

“You okay?” Gerard said, eyes fixed on him.

“I think that stuff is a little stronger than I’m used to.” Frank said, referring to the bottle on the T.V. tray. He blinked a few times with some effort, trying to regain his mental footing but the edges of his vision were beginning to gray.

“Mm. Weird. ” Gerard said. There was a distinct lack of concern in his tone.

“ _I can show you, Frankie. It doesn’t hurt._ ” The disembodied voice was in his head again, louder. And suddenly Frank’s pulse was thrumming too loud in his ears along with it. He couldn’t completely realize that he was holding his head then. Everything was feeling like a dream and Gerard was there simply observing him, continuing to chew the striped plastic of the straw in his mouth.

“What’s wrong?” Gerard actually said. 

“-I’m..” Frank simultaneously felt like a slide under a microscope and like he was starting to float out of his body. _What the fuck kind of weed did Mikey give him_? Was he this high a minute ago? He was feeling more and more disoriented.

“ _You’re okay,_ ” The voice echoed, it was whispering close to his ear.

“I’m okay,” Frank repeated.

“Frank…”

“ _You wouldn’t even feel it. Just a little prick. A pinch._ ”

“You sure?” Gerard was looking at him, suspicious of his answer. “What’s up?”

Frank let his head fall forward, eyes in his lap. The basement was spiraling, a carnival ride covered in junk and gimcrack.

“ _You’d...like it…_ ” echoed the voice. Frank could imagine it — _no_ feel it, mouthing over his ear. “ _You’re okay, Frankie. I’ve got you._ ”

He shook his head, hands trembling and the heavy feeling disappeared, a wash of relief bloomed in his body as he crashed back down into a grounded state on the bed. He felt like he had been dropped onto the mattress.

“I’ll get you some water.” Gerard said.

***

The rest of the night was strange. Frank spent the remainder of _Twilight_ wondering if there was some kind of gas leak in the basement. _Would that cause auditory hallucinations_? But they had been smoking...The whole place would have gone up.

Nothing was making sense. 

Would..Spiced rum? No, come on. What _fucking spices_ make you hear your friend’s brother’s voice in your head? Why the fuck would he hear _Gerard’s_ voice telling him he’d ‘ _like it_ ’. _Fucking like what_?

Frank continued thinking about this, arms crossed over his chest in the passenger seat of his mom’s car on the way home.

Their tires hit a bump and from below on the floor mat, the bottle of rum sloshed audibly in his backpack. Frank’s eyes darted to his mom’s profile, looking at her where she had her gaze trained on the road. She didn’t notice.

This was his own fault, the knot in his belly, _the voice_. How could he explain this to anyone. More importantly how could this happen in general?

_Oh, this was so fucked up._

The car hit another bump.

Maybe it was actually just Gerard. The makeup or the black hair pushed back or the brushing of fingers when being given a cup of that cinnamon crap on Halloween. Surely someone else aside from himself had gotten cross faded and then felt conflictingly under-spell fascinated regarding the insignificant details about a basement weirdo, who for one night of the year looked like _that_ , that they started hearing their voice inside their head. _Right?_

Yes, _fascinated_ , Frank thought. _Only_ that. His brain must have been starting to rot. He had created a disembodied tulpa of Gerard Way to whisper in his ear while watching fucking _Twilight_...Through the power of cannabis and hard alcohol. 

He was squeezing himself tightly, shoulders riding up around his ears. This was so privately humiliating. Tomorrow he would call a therapist.

They were nearly home, it was drizzling against the windshield. Frank’s mom turned the wipers on and he distantly absorbed her remark about how soon there would be snow on the ground.

Frank couldn’t hear anything else over his thinking.

She told him all about her book but he was elsewhere. Didn’t retain any further part of the conversation because he had traveled a galaxy away trying to piece together what was happening to him. Finally she touched his shoulder and he jumped.

“Honey, what’s going on?”

He looked at her with big eyes then curled into his seat, pulling his knees up. 

“Tired. Homework.” Frank said.

“We’re almost home. You don’t feel sick, do you?” Absently she extended her arm, the back of her hand meeting his forehead.

“No, mom.”


	4. Ghost Hunt

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This part ended up being a little longer than the others.
> 
> Anyways, everyone knows that November is for writing vampire adjacent fanfiction, am I WRONG? Haha.
> 
> ty ty ty for kudos/subs & to dearest goblin for the gentle beta.
> 
> As usual, this wasn't tightly edited. Have fun. Sorry. Bye, now.

“ _I want you to believe...to believe in things that you cannot._ ”  
― **Bram Stoker, Dracula**

***

Saturday night came and Frank unpinned the ghost walk tickets from the cork-board that was hanging above his desk. He had finished writing a short paper on the book they were reading in his English Comp class and had just printed it before finishing it with a single staple in the corner. It was nice not having class on weekends, for the sake of his mental health and but more so getting a little messed up with friends on the weekend when the opportunity arose.

He closed out of _Microsoft Word_ and double clicked on _AOL Instant Messenger_ , signing in easily since he had the program set to remember his password. Two clicks later he was pinging Mikey.

 **Misfitz4Eva** : wyd

 **xX_D00m3dToast** : feeding neopets <3

 **Misfitz4Eva** : haha again?

 **Misfitz4Eva** : mieky

 **Misfitz4Eva** : mikey*

 **Misfitz4Eva** : MIKEY

 **Misfitz4Eva** : talking to you man

_xX_D00m3dToast is typing..._

**xX_D00m3dToast** : ya, srry. giant omelet lol. ;P

 **Misfitz4Eva** : gross 

**Misfitz4Eva** : what time for mansion tonight?

 **xX_D00m3dToast** : pick u up at 8, kk? eat b4.

 **Misfitz4Eva** : mmk mom

 **Auto response from xX_D00m3dToast** : I’vE BeCoMe So NuMb I cAn’T fEeL yOu ThErE. :’(

Mikey was away, username showing in his buddylist with a little yellow Post-It style note next to it. Frank double clicked on his profile, opening the window of the messenger client where you could type in whatever you wanted. Mikey’s profile was a nightmare, Frank thought to himself as he scrolled down the short window that was arranged haphazardly in black and neons.

RAWR m33ns ilu<3 in dinosaur, BITCH!

&& My hopes are so high that you kiss might kill me…  
So won’t you kill me? <3

dOn’T fUcK wItH uS  
MW x GW x RT x FI  
.b.f.f.

Frank grimaced at his screen.

***

It was golden hour and amber light bathed the dirt parking lot the boys were standing around in.They were waiting for their appointment slot to free up, arriving early at the Huntington Family Mystery Mansion. Frank was smoking, as usual. 

He took a deep full drag into his lungs before tipping his head back to exhale towards the cloudless sky. With his back against the car, the melty buzz of nicotine settled him and made his shoulders relax. 

The mansion looked even more ominous in person. By day it was a museum, crammed full of antiques and oddities dating back over two-hundred years. By moonlight the place was an attraction for both tourists and seasoned ghost hunters alike, advertising real paranormal activity and some kind of sophisticated equipment rental to prove it. 

The house was enormous, maybe smaller than he remembered from a school field trip several years ago. With carved wood everywhere and a sizable wraparound porch. It was massive and ornate looking against the skyline where it was poised against and above the overgrown trees around them. It was painted in deep purples and reds, garish but accenting perfectly the highly considered architectural details of the building.

When Frank had googled the museum he came upon a bewildering four hundred plus results. The photos of the house made it look like the cover of a gothic horror novel, and this wasn’t too far off from what secrets it was holding inside of it. 

The internet agreed that _yes_ , this place was definitely in possession...Of spirits, ghosts, specters. Whatever. Even if the museum was full of b-movie-esque animatronics that were set to startle you, Frank would have still been interested.

The local municipality archives revealed a few disturbing things about the mansion. It was built in stages, at least three separate phases of construction. Online, digitized versions of the blueprints seemed to all be stapled together. 

While down this rabbit hole, Frank found that tracking down any information about the architects or builders of the most recent phase––Or really their descendants, proved to be remarkably difficult. What was available though was a preponderance of lethal car and household accidents as well as psychiatric hospitalizations which these builders and architects experienced after working on the house.

And really, if someone had a sharp eye, they could tell that at least there were two fragments of those blueprints online that were layered between said stapled sheets by looking closely and seeing leftover paper clinging in the corner of the digitized documents. As if there were more sheets as part of a stack that were torn out from it on purpose. The blueprints for the mansion seemed complete though, no clear gap in the building plans or a missing stage entirely. Whatever was on these missing blueprints no one apparently knew about.

And then there was how each visible stage of building was done exactly thirty-three years apart...But that was where Frank playing _Nancy Drew_ ended because smoking weed and looking at haunted shit late at night online was always a bad idea.

“Can I have one?” Gerard had come around to where he was standing by the side of the car.

Frank felt an apprehensive nervousness make his stomach flip when he came near. He mustered up a cool head and extended the open pack he had been fiddling with in his pocket to Gerard, who happily fingered one out of the box before lighting it with his own lighter that lived inside of his coat.

“Thanks..” There was a pause, a happy yummy noise around an inhale before Gerard blew smoke out the corner of his mouth. “I like to try different kinds.” He said sheepishly, two fingers to his lips while sucking down another breath of smoke.

Frank looked at him neutrally for a moment noticing how the setting sun made his eyes look a transparent hazel and Mikey joined them followed by Ray to make a circle. The two had gone a couple yards away to check out an interesting stump that was growing mushrooms all over it.

“You’ll be relieved to know that there weren’t any fairies or gnomes.” Mikey said, pushing his glasses up. He smiled a little with his hands in his pockets, looking to Ray as if this were some kind of private joke. 

“What time is it?” Ray asked, linking his arm through Mikey’s elbow in a noncommittal way.

Gerard blew a smoke ring and took out his phone to check, “Six forty-five.”

“Cool,” Ray said. “Frank, you got the tickets, right?”

“Yup.” Frank said, thumbing at the foil-stamped cardstock paper in his pocket. “Not always forgetting my shit, believe it or not.”

Frank tossed the end of his cigarette into the gravel and crushed it out using his shoe. The guys were talking amongst themselves and his thoughts were drifting again. He hadn’t spoken to Mikey or Gerard for three days, blowing Mikey’s invites to hang at the Way house off for made up extra credit assignments, but the reality was that he was feeling weird about being around Gerard.

It would have been a lie to say that he hadn’t been trying to figure out what happened in the basement. And he did take some responsibility for himself, calling someone professional to talk to… And maybe he hung up when they didn’t take his shitty insurance and the out of pocket fee cost more than like ten new vinyl. He was doing his best, he wasn’t a danger to himself...Yet.

He had been mostly quiet on the car ride over, him and Ray in the back sitting leaning against each other comfortably and sharing a lukewarm can of _Coors Light_ while Mikey and Gerard argued over which _Weezer_ album was the best. _Pinkerton_ was, despite Rivers Cuomo’s creepy ideas about asian women. However Gerard was arguing that the blue album was because of _Say It Ain’t So_ and My Name Is Jonas.

Frank shifted in his coat, leaning on the car and he was reminded of the weight pulling down and around his shoulder.

“Oh, hey. Check it out. I brought my old man’s video camera” Frank said. He had it on a strap, tucked in the layers of his clothes. Frank lifted one side of his outerwear to reveal it holstered at his side. “It’s from like 2002, should be able to pick up some orbs or shadow people.”

“Nice.” Mikey said. “How much memory do you have on there?”

“I think I can film maybe two hours?” Frank said.

At that moment laughter and squealing rang out from the porch entrance of the mansion as a mixed group of girls and guys started climbing down the stairs, indicating it was time to go inside.

***

Inside smelled of dust and mildew. Of incense that Frank recognized as the kind burned in a thurible at mass. Frankincense and myrrh. 

They had passed through dark wood double doors and into the lobby of the museum, quietly in awe of the giant multi level staircase that dominated the entryway with an ornate patterned low pile runner cascading down its steps. A chandelier hung overhead with faux lightbulb-tipped candles and beneath their feet some of the nastiest looking green carpet Frank had ever seen. There was a dark stain at the foot of the stairs that was halfway hidden under a small out-of-place-looking rug. When he glanced towards his friends again, he saw Mikey checking out the same spot.

“Hey, say hi.” Frank said, camcorder on and in hand. Everyone turned to face him and waved, giving big exaggerated smiles like on the first day of school. “... _and this was the last time they were ever seen alive…_ ” he said in his best worst impression of Rodman Edward Serling. 

“You gonna hide behind that thing all night?” Ray said. 

“Yeah, while you and Mikey are hiding behind each other like Scooby and Shaggy I’ll be filming the ghosts.”

“...You could be scrappy doo.” Gerard supplied from nearby.

“..Ooh.. _Ouch _..” Mikey said. “A short joke, Gee?”__

____

____

“Was I _talking_ to you?” Frank said, then getting closer to get the camera in both Mikey and Gerard’s faces. “Say it again and you’ll be starring in a snuff film, fuck the paperwork.”

Then his feet were above the ground and for a moment he thought, _holy shit this place really is haunted_. 

Ray lifted frank up under his armpits from behind and set him down a few feet away in front of the equipment rental station. At the counter a worn looking middle aged man who had been watching them the whole time stood with a neat stack of paper and pens in front of him. 

“Toro, party of four?”

Ray slid his I.D. onto the counter along with his debit card. 

“We’re gonna burn up all our time.” Ray said, pointedly and Jabbed Frank in the arm. ”We can fight in the parking lot after...” 

At the front desk slash rental station that was off to the side of the entryway, they all signed a complicated insurance waiver that asked them to agree to not steal anything or sue if someone died inside the house. As well as checking a separate box asking guests not to piss inside any of the suits of armor or vases, with a black and white detail showing a map of where the restrooms were.

“It’s cool if I film, right?” Frank was pointing his camera at the desk attendant who upon being asked nodded tiredly.

“Of course. Just no flash photography and no selling the footage. It’s in the waiver. Before you embark on your tour through the mansion, I’ll let you know that this year we installed a responsive light system through the home so spirits may let you know when they are near.”

“ _What_?” Ray said…. And Frank remembered reading about that on their website.

“If you notice red lights blinking overhead, this means a spirit has activated the system by disrupting the current with its electromagnetic frequency that is different to ours. There are lights installed in every room and in the halls.”

“The human heart has an electromagnetic field radius of three feet.” Mikey said. Everyone turned and stared at him with their eyebrows pitched up. “...That wouldn’t activate anything, would it?..”

“No.” The guy behind the counter said.

Apparently, Frank wasn’t the only one who had been doing late night googling.

“Everyone gets a flashlight with the general admission tickets, but we do offer additional tools for guests. The light system will cue you in on hotspots where spirits may be congregating, so you won’t miss out on much if you’re not interested. However, I will say that they have been particularly active tonight and that the last group caught several disembodied voices using one of our devices upstairs. Would you like to upgrade to platinum to rent an EVP reader?”

“Yes.” Ray interjected. 

“Cool.” Said counter guy and he aptly swiped Ray’s debit card through the machine a second time before handing it back to him. He set what looked like a tape-playing walkman on the counter and four practical sized, black aluminum-bodied maglights. Ray gathered everything up in his arms.

“Please return to the lobby once your four hours is up to check your rentals back in. And we _will_ charge you if anything is damaged” Counter guy said. “Oh, and here’s your map.” He slid a half page of xerox paper with some familiar looking drawings of the house indicating what was where onto the surface of the counter. 

***

“What should we check out first?” Ray was holding the paper map of the floorplan. They all were crowded around him at the foot of the staircase to look, he handed it to Frank so he could distribute the rented flashlights amongst them. “...Downstairs?”

“Upstairs!” Gerard said, testing his new flashlight out with it pointed at the floor.

“I want to see the room with the… _Specimens_ ” Mikey said and light from the chandelier overhead reflected off his glasses, obscuring his eyes. 

“... _No_ , no dead babies.” Frank countered.

“What about haunted dolls?” Mikey turned to Frank.

“–What about the clown room?!” Gerard said, and they all grew quiet.

“No.” Frank, Ray and Mikey said at the same time all wearing a similar expression that could be confused with a combination of nausea and odium. 

“What about, this is _my_ birthday present and I want to choose where we go first?” Frank said with a little sigh.

“Fair enough.” Ray agreed, and this became the silent consensus between everyone else. “Then you pick, man.”

“There’s a library on this level.” Frank said.

***  
The library was spacious and was at the end of the hall off to the left of the stairs through a rounded doorway.

The boys all filed in one by one, flashlights off but in hand and shoving each other to see who would startle. Mikey tripped over a fold in one of the rugs on the dark wood floor.

This side of the house faced the setting sun, more golden light spilling in from here through the large bay window in the corner of the room. Illuminated dust particles that were suspended in the air twirled and danced towards the floor. The room smelled delicious, dust and books and the somehow-likeable mildew scent akin to what happens when you first turn a swamp cooler on at the very beginning of summer.

Brimming bookshelves lined each wall, built into the space and climbing up to the ceiling. 

Splitting the room in the dead center was an additional double-sided bookcase with seating arranged around it. They all set off to start examining the room, keeping mostly close.

“You hear that?” Gerard stopped and Mikey walked into him with a soft ‘ _oof_ ’.

There was a noise.

They all looked up towards the ceiling, a distinct and uneven thumping that sounded like someone pacing across the floor overhead from the second level coming through the sheetrock. That was what it sounded like...Impossible though, For the next four hours they had the place to themselves aside from the guy at the front desk.

“Probably pipes.” Mikey said. 

_Or rats_ , Frank had seen some droppings earlier against the baseboards in the hall.

Frank lagged behind, attention finding purchase on the bookcase in the center of the room. Like the rest of the shelves installed in the space, it was stuffed full of fiction and everything else alike. Poetry, children’s fables, bibles and various embossed covers. He ran a hand admiringly over the spines of the titles resting in the shelves, getting dust on his fingertips and wondering how long it had taken to accumulate such a collection. They were lovely.

"Mikey, stop!" Ray said from across the room. 

A book jumped off the shelf in front of Frank. No one saw this but him, and it landed by his feet with a muted thud.

“Did…?” He started and his head picked up, looking to see where everyone else was. 

On the other side of the room Mikey and Gerard were busy making Ray take cellphone photos of them draped across a fringed red velvet fainting couch, their arms splayed dramatically over their heads.

“The vapors!” One of them said. Frank’s focus moved back to the book on the floor. He picked it up. It was a well-worn copy of _Carmilla_.

For a split second one of the red overhead lights winked to life. No one noticed this but Frank and he had wished that he hadn’t turned off his camera in the hall earlier. It was now at his hip with the strap of it slung around him outside of his coat and in reach.

He picked up the book. It was bound in leather and very old. Gently he cracked it open with a satisfying noise before bringing it to his face. He smelled it and examined the words printed on fine cotton paper. It was very, very old.

There was a little piece of torn newspaper tucked between the pages and he flipped to where it was marked.

“Frankie!” Ray said. Him, Mikey and Gerard were standing by the doorway. 

Frank skimmed the page.

‘ _Its horrible lust for living blood supplies the vigor of its waking existence… is prone to become fascinated with an engrossing vehemence, resembling the passion of love... It will never desist until it has satiated...and drained the very life of its…_ ’

“Frank, come on. Let’s go check out the other rooms on this floor.”

The book was discarded back onto the shelf.

***  
They explored a beautifully decorated dining room with all sterling table settings and tapestries on the walls, then peered through the staged kitchen with a cleaver stuck in a wooden butcher’s block and a cast iron cauldron over a faux fire. Red lights overhead in the ceiling flickered but never stayed on more than a half second at most.

Nevertheless they were enjoying themselves, pushing each other into the creepy displays and messing with the antiques and oddities that they were definitely not supposed to be handling. Gerard chased everyone around with a dull rusted throwing axe that was hung on the wall in the massive designated coat room. The space was full of real fox and mink stoles and overcoats, all hung up neatly in two giant rows.

“You’re gonna get cursed, dude. Put that down.” Ray was wearing a white fur coat and an Ushanka hat, both from a nearby coat stand.

They couldn’t get the axe back on the wall and it ended up being thrown behind the wall of coats haphazardly.

***  
In the room marked as ‘infirmary’ on the map there was a horrible person-shaped statue wrapped in paper that made everyone highly uncomfortable. This room had two harpsichords and vintage medical equipment hung all over the walls and from the ceiling like the most fucked up garage sale ever.

It was growing darker and darker outside, daylight had faded and the sky was deep purple through the windows.

Mikey was messing around, lying with his feet hanging over the edge of an enamel autopsy table in the back of the infirmary when both Ray and Gerard decided to turn their flashlights on. This made the room so much worse. Odd shadows played behind bone saws and forceps, through glass barrels of world war one era syringes.

Frank watched as Gerard noticed this in particular. He had mentioned that he was queasy about needles once.

“I feel like someone is standing next to me.” Mikey said, taking in an audible shaky breath. The tile floor in the room made his words echo.

They all fell quiet. There was a draft in the room, cool air leaking in from an indistinguishable spot.

“Get the camera.” Ray elbowed Frank.

From his side Frank settled his camera into his hands and flicked the sliding switch to night vision. In the viewfinder the room looked green. He was turned towards Ray who was wearing a serious expression.

“Mikey?” Frank said, pointing the camera to where he was. Skinny and in his stupid peacoat with the pointy collar, still laying on the autopsy table. He seemed to be holding deliberately still. 

Mikey wasn’t wrong.

“Oh fuck.. Oh _fuck_.” Frank swore under his breath.

Whatever it was, it made itself known for only a moment. The silhouette of a person perhaps or just some kind of formless black shape as tall as a man. Frank caught it, saw it on the little lcd screen standing at the head of the table. Right behind where Mikey was.

Overhead a red light turned on and stayed on. The room with all its grim trinkets looked truly sinister.

"What is it, can you see anything?" Gerard said, giving a nervous laugh. 

“This is bad…” Ray said, flashlight searching around the ceiling.

“Mikey.” Gerard’s voice sounded strained. “Can you..?”

Mikey had already jumped off of the table though, pulling everyone with him as he fled the room. It felt like they were being crowded out of the space, pushed by something. 

They were running, then laughing, then climbing the giant staircase in a shared fit of fear-induced adrenaline. They spiraled upwards to the second floor, feet thumping on the creaking steps.

***

At the top of the landing upstairs they were catching their breath collectively.

“Fuck.” Frank said, fumbling with the camcorder. “ _Fuck_ , did you see…? What the hell. ”

“I saw it.” Ray said, he was smiling and clutching the front of his coat. “On the camera. I saw.”

“Yeah.” Frank said.

“Can you play it back?”

Frank pushed a few buttons on the camera to have it be able to recall previously recorded footage. He scrubbed through the last few minutes of filming, trying to find what had been in the backlit frame.

“There.” Ray said, pointing.

Sure enough, next to Mikey on the screen was a void. An un-solid mass of black like T.V. static or a wispy cloud of mist. 

“Woah...” Frank said.

“Hey, Mikey. C’mere.” Gerard had wandered over across the hall and was looking at some family portraits done in oil paint crowding the walls. He was standing in front of one in particular that had an older woman with a distressed looking wiry-haired dog in her lap.

Mikey joined him and they quietly gave everyone on the wall names and backstories.

“Frank, we have to show the guy at the front desk. This is so cool.” Ray said, eyes trained on the fold-out camera viewfinder. 

“You think we can get anything else tonight? On film?” Frank said.

Ray nodded and overhead a red light blinked, as if to agree with them. They glanced at each other.

“Guys, come look at this.” Ray said.

Frank attempted to rewind the footage again to show Gerard and Mikey who were then coming back across the hall. Instead he set the camera back into filming mode, the blue light on the front blinking.

“Hold on, this thing is acting up.” Frank said.

He pointed the camera up trying to get it to cooperate. In the viewfinder Mikey and Gerard were moving closer.

“What is _that_!?” Frank yelped, jumping backwards against Ray who caught him bridal style in his arms.

Ray jutted his head forward to look into the viewfinder. He adjusted Frank in his hold with some effort briefly, before setting him down and onto his feet. “Let me see that.”

Frank passed him the camera, the strap still tethering it to him around his shoulder.

“Uh, that’s Mikey.” Ray said.

“ _What_?” Frank asked.

“Yeah?” Ray said and motioned with his chin at the camera screen. Frank squinted at it. Both of the Way brothers looked…Their _eyes_.

“You two look so fucking freaky. The hell...” Ray said and Frank had to agree there. In the camera both Gerard and Mikey’s eyes were gleaming back at them, bright and brighter as they moved closer. The way a cat’s or a deer’s did under headlights. Little bright green shining dots in the camera frame.

Gerard lit a cigarette from his coat pocket, and blew smoke. Frank watched this on the screen. 

“Yeah, can I see? It’s the lights I bet.” Gerard flicked his tab with his thumb, making it spark in the low light.

“Dude you can’t smoke in here. There are rugs everywhere…” Ray said.

“Does ‘ _historical landmark_ ’ mean anything to you?” Mikey added, his voice low and he came around to stand next to Frank to look at his freakshow brother in the viewfinder.

Gerard _mhm’d_ and stubbed out the cherry of his smoke on a nearby ceramic bust of a man with a beard before stashing the butt in the similarly crafted pitcher next to it on the table it was on. He shrugged. “Sorry. Habit.”

Everyone but Gerard collectively groaned.

“Anyone opposed to checking out the master suite?” Gerard asked and Frank watched as he smiled with his teeth on the camera.

“Me.” Mikey said. “I wanna check out the stuff in jars.”

***  
“I’m gonna try out the EVP...” Ray said. He had been carrying the little electronic box in his pocket, the front desk provided headphones around his neck. “‘Feel stupid for not having it out back there, but better late..”

Ray, Frank and Gerard were moving down a narrow winding hallway that was the only way to get to the master suite according to the map. Mikey had wandered downstairs to find the aforementioned specimens. Apparently the museum had a large displayed collection of human teeth and preserved animals that would have been relevant only to his interests.

Ray turned on the EVP recorder and the LED interface came alive. He snapped the end of the headphone cord into the port on the bottom and slid them over his ears. They pushed back the dark ringlets of his hair in a handsome way.

He started drawing the device through the air around them, turning around a few times and walking backwards as they moved down the hallway together. He was focused. Gerard laughed, he looked how he did whenever he was doing something with electronics or instruments. Serious but elated.

“ _Shh_!” Ray said.

Frank and Gerard were walking behind him side by side. The hallway was narrowing even more as they made it half way down towards the master bedroom. They followed Ray, trying their best to move quietly as he meticulously scanned around the hallway with the reader. At one point Ray held it up to a weird marble statue of a little boy that seemed to mark the middle point to their destination.

It was so quiet, eerie and dark except for the light coming from their flashlights. Even though they were safe inside the mansion, it felt strangely portentous. They had paid to be there, but there was a lingering in the dark, in the shadows long and looming behind the antiques and furniture that set Frank on edge. He couldn't wait to get home and plug his camera into the T.V. and review the footage he took. Of the thing behind Mikey. What made it want to be near him and not anyone else? Frank thought of how the air changed and cooled.

_So weird._

There was nothing particularly special about where he lived, the idea of there being spiritual activity _here_ was beyond strange. Of course wherever you went someone had died there, right? And if ghosts were...Real..What else could..

Gerard's hand bumped into Frank's and he jumped.

The hallway was getting narrower and narrower as they ambled behind Ray. 

A few minutes of this later and Mikey had seemingly materialized back into existence directly behind them. He slid up to the group, crowding them forward in the tiny almost-end of the hallway in a way that startled all of them and that knocked Ray forwards onto the floor.

“I’m back. Did you find anything?” Mikey said, threading himself between Frank and Gerard to help Ray up and untangle the headphone cord that gotten trapped in his hair. He dusted a grumbling Ray’s coat off, resting his head onto his shoulder from where he was standing behind him. Ray explained their most recent readings– or lack thereof, as everyone reoriented themselves. 

This left Frank all the way in the back of their line and he had to apologize softly for stepping on the heel of Gerard’s boot.

“Can you see?” Gerard asked, whispering. He was looking at Frank over his shoulder and had his flashlight pointed at the ceiling to illuminate the space better.

Frank made a small irritated noise in his throat, because he could not see whatever was happening up front. “No, but. It’s cool.”

Gerard rearranged them, turning sideways to steer Frank in front of him. “There.”

Frank moved close to Ray and Mikey, trying to figure out what Ray was talking about. There was nothing to actually see since there wasn’t a screen indicating some kind of readout on the EVP. It was an EVP reader for _chrissake_. That’s _electronic voice phenomena._

He felt Gerard press close to his back and he stiffened. Gerard’s warm breath was on his neck. He was craning over Frank to see for himself what was going on. Ray had started to explain to Mikey about what knob and switch did what on the EVP. Seriously, _who designed this hallway to be so fucking narrow_?

Then a red light turned on overhead, making all of the boys look up in terror.

“Who’s there?” Gerard said, clapping a hand onto Ray’s shoulder. 

“I’m listening! Shhh..” Ray said. He twisted at the knobs on the device and dashed it through the air. “Be _quiet_.”

The air seemed to move around them. Cold and not unlike the opening of a freezer door. The floor creaked beneath them. Frank felt his heart skip, his palms beginning to sweat. He looked to Mikey, then to Gerard sort of half-way turning around in the tight space of the hall.

Ray then moved to face all of them, his eyes were big. Whites visible even in the dim light.

“What, what is it?” Mikey huddled closer, displacing Frank and pushing him into Gerard who gave a little aborted _'uhf'_. Frank stepped forward, but they were all too clustered together to put any real space between them. 

Gerard leaned against him. His chest against his back. 

“Actually wait, here.” Ray said and he unplugged the headphones, pressing a button on the front of the little control panel. He adjusted the volume and static was heard from a speaker.

First there was nothing.

There was a burst of static.

Then nothing.

“What the fuck..” Mikey said.

“Dude. Be quiet.” Frank said, giving him a soft push on the shoulder. 

They all crowded even closer together, listening.

Ray twisted a knob on the EVP again, it made a whiny electronic noise before settling with a crackle.

Again, nothing. Ray adjusted the machine again.

“H…. _hello_.” 

The energy in the little hallway became incredibly tense. The red light overhead was still on. Everything looked notably _worse_ in red light. Shadows weird on everyone's faces. The walls had frames hung cluttered above the hip-high wainscoting. Awful old family photos and paintings of fruit or animals. There was a seascape of a boat being tossed into a storming sea directly behind Mikey's head, a little man in a probably bright yellow, but not in this light, raincoat being thrown into the foaming ocean.

“Who’s there?” Ray asked. “Do you want to talk to us?”

“..... _h….hello…_ ” 

“Hello?” Gerard said, breathing in sharply from behind Frank.

“Don’t insult it.” Ray said..

“What’s your name?” Mikey asked.

There was no response.

“Would you like to talk to us again?” Mikey said, shining his flashlight around the hallway.

Nothing came through on the reader.

“I guess it doesn’t like me.” Mikey groused.

Frank cleared his throat. He paused, thinking. “Is there anything you want us to know?”

Nothing, no sound and then a crinkling of static. 

“...Anything you want to tell us?” Frank asked. 

They all leaned close to the speaker. No one breathed, their heads tilted towards Ray's hand where he was clutching the EVP.

“ _...Da….Dang...er._ ”

“ _Danger_?!” Ray said, voice frantic. 

“Shut up.” Gerard turned his flashlight on and pointed it at the reader. He reached past Frank, brushing against the fabric of his coat. Gerard adjusted one of the other switched settings on the EVP.

“This way..Move up.” And Gerard encouraged them forward.

They all were intently waiting for a response from the reader, creeping towards the master suite at the very end of the hall. It was dark, but not so dark that you couldn’t entirely see. 

Everyone breathed steadily, listening. Waiting. Attention collectively trained on the reader.

They all looked up when feedback came through from the speaker.

There.

A dark shape greeted them. They had reached the end of the hall. And there a figure, taller than all of them and solid looking stood.

Frank’s breath caught in his throat and without realizing he leaned back into Gerard with his blood running freezing cold in his veins. There was a mutual pressing against, fear making them cling superficially to each other. Frank felt so aware of his pulse, his heart hammering in his chest. A thrill racing through him like being dunked in ice water, like being shaken awake.

There.

“Fuck!! What is _that_?” Mikey yelped fumbling with his flashlight. He pointed it at the ominous dark shape.

It was a suit of armor, and the light bounced off of its silver surface. It was posed with its arm up, holding a sword menacingly. Then everyone yelled, startled from Mikey’s response. They were panicked with their flashlights dancing around the room cartoonishly. 

In a flurry and fit of fear the boys all rushed, turning and struggling in the hall to find some kind of equilibrium.

Ray’s elbow slammed into Frank’s face when he spun around too quickly trying to escape.

“ _Uhnn...Fuck_!” Little stars zoomed around Frank’s head spectacularly, A warm wet feeling filled his nose. He clutched his face as pain spread warmly through the center of his expression. He stumbled backwards, nearly tumbling to the floor but landing against the wall.

“ _Shit_ , man. You okay? I’m so sorry!” Ray dropped his flashlight with a sobering clunk, his voice sounded genuinely concerned as he crouched to pick it up off the low pile patterned hallway runner. He patted at Frank’s shoulder using his flashlight to look him over. “Oh, _dude_. You’re bleeding. I got you good.”

Frank groaned and everyone settled to check him over.

“Anyone have any tissues?” Ray looked around hopefully. His eyebrows were pitched up. Frank made another pained noise, his hands catching the crimson that was now spilling from his nostrils.

 _Fucking hell_. Frank’s face throbbed. He swallowed and tasted the hot copper of his blood in his throat.

“Dude, you need to get to the bathroom. You’re making a mess. I don’t want us to get kicked out of here because you’re bleeding all over the haunted stuff.” Mikey said, working to steady his breathing.

Everyone had their flashlights aimed at Frank then, who was looking between them all. The suit of armor stood nearby, still brandishing its sword but now no longer a threat.

It got quiet again. Frank blinked his eyes open and shut several times, wincing in the glare of the flashlights and the red light that was still on overhead.

"Come on, we have to get you cleaned up." Ray said. 

“I know where it is. I’ll go with him.” Gerard chimed in with some hesitation. He sounded out of breath like everyone else. Frank couldn’t quite read his expression with the lights all pointed at him.

A familiar unnamed knot tied in Frank’s stomach.

“I’ll be fine by myself.” He said, voice muffled. His hands were caged over his face. Red was seeping through his fingers.

“We shouldn’t split up if you’re like that.” Mikey said, his tone flat. 

“You shouldn’t go alone…” Gerard muttered.

“He’s right, Frank,” Ray added. “We can meet you back here, Mikey and I can investigate the master bedroom and you and Gee can meet us back at the haunted doll gallery.” 

And maybe, just maybe Mikey and Ray met eyes for a second making a silent observation between themselves.

***

“ _Uhh..Ow.._ ” Frank murmured, leaning over the white tile counter to look at himself in the mirror. His face was still throbbing, a hot stream of blood was dripping out of his nose and into the sink. He ran the faucet and washed his hands before grabbing a handful of paper towels from the dispenser on the nearby wall. He balled up the paper and wet it, touching the towels to his face with a wince. Red bloomed on the wet paper and he wiped his face some before pressing in.

The walk downstairs to the bathroom was...Quiet. The night had been fine with Gerard in the company of Ray and Mikey, but on their short trek alone things felt oddly tense. He couldn't read into why. Frank was distracted by the awful throb in his face, pain that emanated out from where Ray’s elbow had collided with his head. And while it hurt, Frank didn’t miss Gerard repeatedly glancing at him.

Gerard was _concerned_. Of course. Yours and your brother's friend is hurt and you are _concerned_. The nosebleed was bad, why wouldn't he be worried?

It was fine. Gerard was waiting outside the bathroom, leaning against a wall and probably fucking around on his phone or whatever he did when left unattended.

Frank could hear himself breathing in the small tile-lined room. The spigot of the sink dripped and tapped out a rhythm into the antique ceramic basin below. Small drips of crimson were diluted by the water and tinted the worn circle around the drain pink.

Ray really had gotten him bad. He had woken up with nosebleeds, but to have one from an injury was apparently a different ballpark entirely.

He applied more pressure over his nose and it stung. Frank shut his eyes, inhaling a shaky chestful of air.

The door creaked open then clicked shut as it locked.

Frank blinked.

Gerard’s silhouette glided into the bathroom, standing next to him in the mirror. 

“ _Hey_ ,” Frank said from beneath the paper towels.  
Gerard didn’t respond.

Someone had decided to install red lightbulbs in the restroom, probably to maintain the scary ambiance of the museum. Not the same as the system that alerted them to spirits nearby, regular old red light bulbs in the regular un-haunted fixtures.

The low warm light was making Gerard look...Frightening. Or maybe just really tired, Frank's brain rationalized. Right then that was the way to describe him and he continued to just stand there, next to Frank in the mirror.

“You can wait outside, I’m okay.” Frank said.

Gerard continued with his quiet looming. His bangs were in his eyes. Frank felt the little dog hairs on the back of his neck prickle, an undercurrent of something electric threading between them and beginning to pull taut with tension.

“ _Frank_.”

Water tapped into the sink. Frank felt too wrung out to be scared or whatever his body was trying to inspire his brain to be. 

“I’m fine.” With some effort Frank turned himself around, leaning back against the counter to really look at Gerard. He was stepping closer to him, crowding him until the fabric of their coats brushed.

“I wanna’ make sure you’re okay.” Gerard’s voice trailed, sounding off. Distorted as Frank saw his mouth form the words. He had never been this close before, not like this. “ You lost a lot of––” Gerard swallowed and Frank watched his throat contract, “ _Blood_.”

“I’m _fine_. It’s nothing.” 

Gerard wasn’t listening to him, the point of his tongue darted out to wet his lips. Frank felt like he was sinking, adrenaline mustering up from deep in his nervous system and lancing through him. He unconsciously tried to back away and bumped into the counter where he had unintentionally boxed himself in.

“Let me see.” Gerard said, his voice dying mid sentence again.

_Why?_ Frank thought, frozen. Stuck in place. 

Pale hands were grabbing Frank's from where they were over his face then, moving the crumpled paper towels away. Blood dribbled from Frank’s nose when the pressure was removed.

Frank’s gaze flicked up. _Oh_.

Gerard’s eyes looked dark and shark-like. Cold and trained on the red dripping down Frank’s upper lip. He swallowed again, this time making a noise like this mouth was dry.

“Gerard, I’m fine––” It came out like Frank was also trying to convince himself of this. As he spoke blood went into his mouth and coated his teeth, he wanted to reach up and wipe his face but still felt paralyzed.

Time moved different then, hazy and dreamy. The light overhead blinked out for a moment and Frank realized he was holding his breath.

“I’m fine.” He repeated.

Gerard leaned in, his forehead bumped against Frank’s. He was breathing his air then, eyes barely open and slow. 

The drip of the sink _tap tap tapped_ into the basin. Gerard was so close to him, warm and against him. He was trapped between him and the counter. That’s how Frank felt, _trapped_. Like a rabbit in a snare. He could have just pushed Gerard away. He could have

“ _What’re you_ ––?” Frank said. He really had no idea what was going on, but what came next made him feel like his head was going to fall off and roll away. The drip of the faucet became louder. Gerard’s breath louder than that, and Frank's pulse, the throb of his heart surged up into his throat and ears deafeningly. 

Gerard licked at his face and the hot swipe of his tongue made Frank realize that a bruise was forming on his nose and upper lip. He licked him again and Frank was truly frozen against the counter digging into his lower back. Standing clutching the wet paper in a fist down by his side.

The dizzy feeling from the basement was back. He looked up at Gerard who had his blood on what he could see of his teeth between his lips. It reminded him of a horror film. Which one he couldn’t place, head too busy with all of this. 

Frank was wading through the cloudy feeling of a waking dream. He could only watch, eyelids feeling heavy and jaw relaxed.

It took him a second to remember the rest of his previous thought, voice sounding small and far away when he finally spoke again. “What are you doing?”

Gerard was just... Looking at him. Looking at him with pupils so blown that Frank couldn’t tell where his iris began. He had crimson from Frank’s nosebleed in the corners of his lips and it looked black in the red light.

“You’re––” Gerard crowed, hoarse. He took a stifled breath in, licking his lips. He looked euphoric, out of it. Like he had just woken up from a pleasant dream. Incongruently, Frank was shrinking under Gerard’s blackened eyes and dark eyelashes and the hair in his face. His uneven, now red tinted teeth.

There were multiple things playing against him, how Gerard looked and his proximity. So close. Gerard was good looking, anyone with eyes could understand that. Men or women or whoever. And with little space between them Frank couldn't help but to really observe the details of his face. A freckle on his cheek, his pointy nose and delicate cupid's bow. He was pretty but still masculine and that was fucking confusing. Frank wanted to know what that was about, what it tasted like.

His curiosity lingered too long. 

And then it was Frank’s turn to close the space between them.

He fell forward and was caught by Gerard, his knees were liquid and his head was tilted up and Frank was feeling something previously calcified dissolving inside of himself.

He kissed Gerard.

That’s what this was about, _right_? Gerard had come into the bathroom to kiss him, _didn’t he_? The blood licking was just another weird thing he was into, _wasn’t it_? 

Frank was pressing his mouth to Gerard’s begging him to move. He kissed him and tasted copper and the cigarette smoke in his open mouth.

“Fuck, _come on_.” He breathed, pulling them into the tiled wall adjacent to the sink and letting his hands find his way up and into Gerard’s hair. Frank pulled Gerard against himself tighter.

Gerard was wearing a dreamy expression, his dark eyes tired. His reaction time seemed to be slowed, considering Frank after a huge delay. “Yeah...” he said, reaching to carefully cup Frank’s chin as another drop of blood dripped from his nose onto his shirt. Gerard’s eyes followed it, head tilted down at Frank’s chest where the new red wet spot was on his shirt.

“Frank.” Gerard said softly, looking at him. Actually looking.

Their faces were still close, in one final last ditch effort Frank drew their mouths together again. Pressed his lips to Gerard’s one more time, hoping that Gerard would just… Move. Their noses brushed, the becoming-tacky smearing of his nosebleed sliding between them. 

_Please._

He felt hands grip the top of his arms over his coat. It started soft and experimental, testing, searching. Gerard’s tongue ran over the seam of his mouth, lapping at iron and salt.

Then for a long beat all there was was the _tap tap tapping_ of the sink again as it sent droplets of water to splash into the basin and the hot point where their faces were connected. 

Frank felt himself trembling, leaning back into the tiled wall with his fingers still threaded in Gerard’s hair to hold him close. 

He wasn’t imagining this or dreaming this, it was happening. Gerard in front of him, against him, _kissing him_. The wet-warm slide of it. It was all _real_. Frank realized just how fast his heart was pounding in his chest, almost threatening to bruise his ribs.

“Mm,” Frank said. Something nicked his lip, like a papercut from licking an envelope wrong. A tiny slice of pain across the fine skin.

As if he felt it too, Gerard pulled away and Frank couldn’t help but to follow his mouth with his own, hands falling to grasp at Gerard’s coat. 

_No, no… Wait..Come on_..

It was too late.

“ _Frank_?” he breathed. Then Gerard blinked a few times rapidly and was looking panicked around the room. Just like that, his eyes were back to normal looking. Now full of concern. “Frankie, _your nose_.”

Instinctively, Frank brought a hand to his lip, finding a small cut. He let his head fall back against the tile.

“Here, _shit_.” Gerard was wetting more paper towels in the sink and then pressing them to Frank’s nose where his nosebleed had finally slowed and dried on his upper lip. He cleaned Frank’s face off, then wiped at his own mouth haphazardly, finding Frank's blood there too.

“I’m sorry, I.... We have to go back. ––The guys.” Gerard fumbled through his words, urgency in his voice. His hair was sticking up where Frank had pulled it. He looked more lucid as he put the used towels into the trash. “Are you okay?”

Frank felt like the floor was coming up to swallow him, eyes fixed on Gerard’s face this time in a different sort of horror.

“Yeah,” he said, finally. He moved away a little too quickly, hands dropping after realizing they were still balled up in the edges of Gerard’s coat. “Have to go back.”

****

When they found Ray and Mikey again, standing outside the haunted doll gallery, Mikey took one look at both of them and his eyes narrowed at Gerard.

“We got kinda lost. This place is huge.” Gerard said and turned his flashlight over in his hands a few times.

“Yeah…” Frank added distantly.

Both of their hair was kind of everywhere and Frank’s clothes looked rumpled, blood dry around his collar .

When Frank wasn’t looking, his head poked inside the doorway to the gallery (a grotesque display of frills and fake hair that made fear begin to build in his gut upon considering one of the doll’s heads spinning around with possession), Mikey licked his thumb and wiped a barely there bit of red from the corner of Gerard’s mouth.

“ _Idiot_.” 

***


	5. New Message

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hi. What's up?
> 
> TY as always to my angelgoblin for the beta lite(tm)
> 
> As usual this is lightly edited, so sorry if mistakey. I will at some point look over the entirety of this and do a larger editing but...
> 
> NSFW next chapter/s. Hang tight.

_“I have a sort of empty feeling; nothing in the world seems of sufficient importance to be worth the doing.”_  
**― Bram Stoker, Dracula**

***

It felt like there was a knotted ball of yarn inside his chest, or a cluster of tangled wires too far entwined with no visible end indicating where to begin with their separating. Like spacey and overwhelm and too tight in his chest. Like the jitters from too much caffeine that makes your foot bounce and that you can only suffer through, waiting for it to wear off.

No, no that wasn’t _right_. What happened? 

Frank kept playing it back in his head over and over again. The red light in the bathroom. The dripping tap. The feeling of his hands in Gerard’s hair and gripped in the fabric of his coat. The kissing. Then it was over as if it hadn't happened at all.

He worried at his lower lip and felt the faint cut that was still there with his tongue.

Part of him felt… crumpled up and used. Maybe it was the residue of Catholic guilt, old and compartmentalized at this point. Or the amount of kissing with no real return happening to him recently. But that was okay, that was fine. People kissed each other all the time. In altered states or not, people’s mouths often met. People kissed each other without an expectation of something else, to see what it was like, or because they wanted to. 

And okay, sure, he had kissed his friends before. They had kissed him too. Sometimes as a dare, or to see who would chicken out first, or to fill space in an inebriated conversation. That happened and didn't mean anything to anyone involved. It was totally possible. 

Frank wasn’t some kind of prude, or insecure in a way that would make him say no to touching someone just because it felt nice. It didn’t have to mean something every time, it could be an isolated source of enjoyment in that respect. He liked and was interested in people and people liked and were interested in him...Sometimes -The latter felt dubious at best. 

He couldn’t help but wonder why this was becoming a repeated incident though.

And why Gerard? And why did he have to stop if it was meaningless and was because it felt nice?

What if Frank wasn’t good at…he wasn’t good at a _lot_ of stuff...

All of this had to be some kind of cosmic fluke. A mistake.

Frank inhaled smoke, predictable in his melancholy and inclination to self medicate. He pinched the joint into a nearby ashtray and blew out of his bedroom window through a homemade mute. A toilet paper roll stuffed with dryer sheets; A faithful work of past high school ingenuity. 

Cool air drifted into the room. He moved his face close to the screen and it felt good on his skin.

He was so twisted up. Irritated. There was no one to talk to about this, it was too fucking embarrassing.

In general he was often self sabotaging, but now it felt like he wasn’t the one doing it anymore.

He really felt _that_ when he asked Mikey for Gerard’s number after class the following Monday and Mikey said “.. _For what_?” before taking his phone and punching it in for him. 

Then again, felt that– later at home when he sent out a noncommittal “Hey” into the aether and received no response. 

Another deep drag made him cough until his eyes watered. He stubbed out the joint and stored it inside an empty orange prescription bottle that was on the windowsill waiting.

It figured. It was alright. He'd live.

“Frank?” There was a soft knock at the door. Frank quickly shoved the orange plastic evidence into one of his desk drawers, slamming it haphazardly.

“Come in.”

The door cracked and his mom poked his head into the room. “I’m heading to bed, Honey. Everything okay?” She made a face like she was pretending not to smell what he was doing.

“Yeah, mom. All good.” Frank said, trying to seem only sleepy. It was late. He was old enough that he didn’t really need to sneak around anymore, she knew he smoked (and wished he didn’t). She didn’t like him doing it in the house.

She looked at him, expression concerned and perhaps resisting the urge to pry. “Okay, see you in the morning then, sweetheart. Goodnight.”

“Goodnight.”

***

Frank squinted at himself in the bathroom mirror as he swished _Listerine_ in his mouth after brushing his teeth.

He looked exhausted, circles under his eyes from staying up late and trading breakfast most days for too much coffee. 

He was really looking at himself then. Weighing and evaluating. He was small, short. Scrawny and soft in the middle. He didn’t care for the shape of his own face and hated the little chicken pox scar between his eyebrows.

_I wouldn’t like me if I met me._

He spit into the sink, hands gripped on the lip of the basin.

_Yeah, I wouldn’t like me at all._

He was staring at himself, chin tilted up and pupils big.

 _And if I can’t, how could anyone else? Stupid motherfucker._ The thought was cynical, an attempt to justify the weird amount of lapse in judgement made by everyone deciding to pay attention to him and then quickly pull away, leaving him lonely. 

Frank went back into his bedroom and dropped onto the mattress. He could have slept like this, on top of the duvet in his clothes. His window was still open, damp cool air making the space inside the four walls chilly.

He should have said something and stopped Gerard. Stopped himself. He felt embarrassed by how seemingly desperate he acted, how ready he was to pull Gerard forward and mash their mouths together. How he encouraged him to do it.

How he had encouraged Gerard, his best friend's brother, to kiss him.

He deserved to feel like this. All thin-stretched over how it probably meant nothing at all to Gerard, who now carried around what would inevitably be awkwardness even if he never said anything about it because Frank would (inevitably) think about it around him. Gerard who was already so off limits because he was Mikey's _brother_ , and worse... Could tell Mikey, and then how would _that_ go? They had never discussed anything like that before. 

_Yeah, so.. Hey, man. If I wanted to kiss your brother how would you feel about that?_

And really it meant nothing to Frank too. Probably– that was such an illegal move though, to go after a friend's sibling.

Frank rolled onto his side and groped around for his phone that was previously discarded on top of the covers.

This was what he deserved for, what? Doing the exact same thing to someone else? Yeah, maybe it was some strange hand-of-god payback for...Not texting…The girl from the party back. Yeah, that was it. That _had_ to be it.

Frank was just being taught some kind of lesson from the beyond in the form of corresponding magnets being placed in his and Mikey’s older brother’s mouth.

It didn’t mean anything and existed solely as a teachable moment. Now he knew how much of a jerk he was and everything was resolved. He got it.

It was time to make amends and move on.

He scrolled through his contact list looking for a name that sounded like it might suit the girl on the stairs. His embarrassment had been dead long enough that he could ping her and he felt compelled to do so if it could dispel his clinging sense of dread surrounding himself being a member of society who went out and kissed everyone...And their brother.

There weren't a ton of names in his phone and when he landed on ‘Jenny’ he knew it had to be her. With some hesitation he tapped out a message. 

**_hey jenny It’s frank :)_ **

His eyes narrowed at the screen. He pressed send.

_There, it’s done_

Frank sat up, swinging his legs to the side of the bed and got to his feet. He was still stoned, head still fuzzy. He didn’t trust himself to actually go to sleep if he tried to, he knew he’d end up in some deep thought hole that would take him well into the morning if he were to lay back and shut his eyes.

He shrugged his coat on, slipped on shoes and went downstairs quietly.

A walk around the neighborhood would clear his head.

***

“That test kicked my ass.” Frank groused, looking at the ‘C’ written in red pen and circled on the packet of stapled paper in his hand.

“Should’a studied.” Ray said. They were walking next to each other towards the bookstore. There was a cafe inside the store that sold snacks, sandwiches and hot drinks.

“I studied.” Frank said, dropping his test into a nearby recycling bin as they passed it. Bright orange and mustard yellow leaves drifted down on a breeze as they moved under a tree, still on their way.

“Is that why you look so tired?” Ray said, which was a nice way of telling someone that they looked like shit.

He did look tired though, showing up to class swimming inside of an oversized hoodie and hair sticking up everywhere. Frank had slept fitfully the night before, stomach full of worry.

“Excellent observation, Doctor Toro.” 

“What, hey. I’m just saying.” Ray said, shifting a stack of books around in his arms.

They passed through an automatic sliding door at the front of the bookstore and got into line for coffee. Several other students were ahead of them.

“What, that you have eyes? _Yes_ , I’m tired.”

“Stop being cranky when I’m buying.” Ray’s voice remained light. He owed him from last week when he forgot his wallet.

“Yeah, yeah.” Frank said and his phone vibrated from inside his sweatshirt. He slipped his hand into his pocket to retrieve it. There was a new message notification, It was from Jenny.

**There you are! :D**

“ _Shit._ ” Frank breathed.

***

“I dunno’ why you’re sweating this, dude. She put her tongue in her mouth.” Ray said.

“Shut up.”

Ray laughed, choking on his coffee. He coughed with his hand over his mouth. A single spiral in the middle of his parted curly hair freed itself from behind his ear. 

They were sitting at a grated picnic table adjacent to the bookstore, warming themselves in the sun. Mikey had joined them, finding Frank and Ray as soon as his first class let out.

“All you have to do is be yourself.” Ray said, giving a little smile. He patted Frank’s knee reassuringly. “A restrained version of you.”

Frank glared down at him from where he was on the table top, Ray and Mikey below on the attached benches.

“You sound like my mom…”

“Obviously, she at least sort of likes you.” Ray said.

“She probably doesn’t remember what he _looks_ like.” Mikey said, looking to Ray who was laughing again and breaking his previous silence. He had only nodded a hello when he had sat down and had been absorbed in one of his textbooks again. This book had actual photographs of what looked like some kind of gum procedure being done on a patient from what Frank could see.

Laying back onto the table, Frank gave a defeated huff. 

“Let me see the text.” Mikey said.

Frank shot an arm out, phone in hand from where he was playing dead. He felt Mikey take it and then heard him give a tiny amused chuckle.

“Aww, a smiley face.”

“I _know._ ” Frank said.

The sky was mostly clear that day, puffy cumulus clouds flitting by in the autumn air overhead and through the freshwater blue of it. The sun felt good, lifting Frank’s mood a little just by beaming down on him. He stretched his arms over his head. That felt good too.

And before Frank could stop him, he heard the clicking of keys from Mikey down below.. Who was definitely typing something into his phone.

“––Mikey, wait..” Frank sat up onto his elbows. His words sounded more panicked than he wanted them to.

“There, sent.” Mikey snapped the phone shut and tossed it to land on Frank’s belly on top of his sweatshirt. 

Frank glanced down at his phone mournfully. “What the fuck did you say to her? Shit, I swear to god if you made me look like some kind of predator freak I’m––”

“I think you mean, ‘Thank you, Mikey. You’re the best friend ever. What would I do without your help?’”

Ray thoughtfully took another drink from his paper coffee cup, staying out of it.

“What did you say?!”

“See for yourself.” Mikey supplied, lips barely curling up in a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes behind his glasses.

Frank moved again, actually returning to sitting upright. He opened his phone and hunched over it…

Ray Craned himself forward to look for himself.

**_How are you today, beautiful? I’ve been thinking about you._ **

“Fuck…” Frank said.

“That’s good.” Ray added, eyebrows up and glancing at Mikey.

“ _You’re welcome._ ” 

Frank’s phone buzzed as if to agree.

***

The two of them were walking next to each other down the sidewalk. Ray parked his car a block away, him and Frank were on their way to check out the local music store after class. Ray wanted to pick up new guitar strings and maybe check out and mess around on some of the used gear the shop had for sale.

Frank came with him whenever he asked him to. He perpetually needed something for his guitar. Strings, or a strap, or picks that always seemed to run away from him or disappear in the crevices of his room when he wanted to use them. 

Plus, the music shop was in a neat part of town. It was next to a tiny coffee shop that served outstandingly good drip coffee and fresh baked goods, kitty-corner from the dollar theater and then across the street and four lanes of traffic was the record store.

“I want a new amp…” Ray said dreamily. 

Frank had his head turned towards The Vinyl Spot across the street as they got closer to their destination. 

“You want a new everything,” He replied. He couldn’t tear his eyes away from across the road. The glass display windows on the front of the shop were facing the sun, creating a wickedly bright glare. “ Your room looks like the fucking guitar Batcave with all the wires you got coming out of it. You’re gonna burn your house down one day.”

“Yeah... But who lets you borrow all their shit, huh?” Ray snorted and gave Frank a little push.

“Psh, well. You still owe me a little more for coffee. Get me some picks and we call it even, huh?”

They walked through some especially crunchy leaflitter, debris skittering around their feet on the wind. Ray pulled his coat tighter around him.

The pair crossed on the same side of the sidewalk, using the crosswalk and getting to where the music store was on the corner. A bell above the door chimed when Frank pulled it open and his thoughts started to wander as he stepped over the threshold with Ray in tow.

“Gonna’ look.” Frank said with a sidelong glance, but Ray was already walking to the back towards a counter where they kept the strings he needed under glass. Frank could hear him talking friendly with the cashier who had a broad and familiar face.

The store was small enough that it felt like theirs. Guitars on the walls and displayed on a little step up of a platform above the subfloor. There were signs advertising rentals, several cardboard cutouts of classic rock icons, packs of picks and capos hung up in plastic on a pegboard. There was a banjo abandoned in the corner that looked well loved and had a big red tag on it that said ‘SALE’. Frank went around gently touching all the necks of the guitar selection and gazing at prizes.

By the window there was a little Fender Squire P-bass. Cherry red and with a shortened scale neck. It looked like a toy and Frank couldn’t resist picking it up. He tuned it by ear and started plucking at it. It wasn’t plugged in so it wasn’t making much noise, but it was enough that it satisfied him.

He really didn’t know all that much about bass, that was Mikey's thing, and this sort of set him free in his little guitar store experimentation. There was a strap connected to the strap button so he threw it over his shoulder before letting some slack out from the sliding adjuster. 

Everyone knew all of the coolest bass players played their guitar from their hips or lower.

He stood with his legs apart plucking at the strings, figuring out a vague rendition of _Holiday in Cambodia._

Out in front of the store a group of teenagers walked by.

Behind him he could hear Ray and the shop owner shooting the shit. Ray had bought a clutch of guitars and gear from him over the past few years and he really wanted Ray to consider maybe giving lessons at the shop sometime. They had a tiny soundproof room in the back that was used for exactly that.

Frank moved onto _Green Day’s Longview_ , plucking and fingering over the strings of the Bass. He was thinking, not more than usual. Absently moving through the mental to-do list of homework and chores he had waiting for him at home. He needed to do laundry. He had another essay. He needed to text his weed guy about where they could meet up next week. He needed to…He forgot. 

His mind washed blank.

He realized that his hands had stopped. The sound in the room seemed kind of muted or underwater. He could hear Ray and the owner still talking. Sort of. He couldn’t understand them.

Frank stepped towards the window, watching his feet. Weird. He was feeling pretty tired earlier, not like this. He thought of how he should stop going to bed so late.

His eyes skimmed around the floor, then to the guitar feeling heavy in arms. Sleep sounded really good. His face felt heavy too.

As if there were a hand cupped under his chin assisting him, he picked his head up from the neck of the guitar where he had his left hand gripped around it. His eyes found focus through the front window and across the street.

He looped the strap of the guitar back over his head, carefully freeing himself. He set it back down into an unoccupied stand on the raised part of the floor.

Then Frank was just... Staring. Looking out the window and across the road with his arms limp and by his sides.

_Why?_

He had been to the record store before, The Vinyl Spot. It was tiny like the guitar shop was and smelled good, like old books and dust. They bought and sold new and used, which was cool. He had gotten some real gems at the place, hunting through the stacks and tucking them under his arm as he shopped. And now he felt like he couldn’t move his eyes away from the reflection on the window where it was, shoulders relaxed and completely spaced out.

Ray called his name.

Ray was calling his name. Several times then he must have.

“Frank! Hey, can you see Gerard from there?”

“ _What_?” Frank said, confused. His voice only sounded vaguely like it was coming from where his mouth was.

A car passed, obscuring the sunlight that was creating the reflection against the front window’s glass at The Vinyl Spot. And there, in the window, was the distinct silhouette of Gerard. He was inside and turned slightly towards the music store. Towards Frank. Not looking, _no_. There was no way he could see him from there. 

–But Frank for sure could see him.

Frank’s face fell, then screwed into an irritated expression. But what if he _had_ seen Frank...In front of the window. What if he thought he was standing there playing on purpose so that he _would_ see him? 

_Then you would look like a fucking tool._

“ _Yeah_ , I see him.” Frank said, eyebrows pinching in further.

Gerard was walking around helping someone, a stack of records in his arms. It looked like he had his hair in a ponytail, like a little paintbrush coming from the back of his neck. He was wearing an apron with what looked like an oversized nametag on it.

He looked happy. 

Gerard was talking with his hands to whoever was in front of him, smiling and sort of craning his head down like he did at Mikey when he was really listening to him when they were in the basement. It was always sincere…

There was something to be appreciated about that. And while Gerard almost completely unnerved him if Frank was under his full attention, he felt soft about how he treated his brother. 

And that's why...Fuck, him and Frank shouldn't have kissed. That's why.

Mikey and Gerard got along. He remembered when he had first met the Way brothers during his time working at the library. While putting stacks of books away from the return card he had stumbled upon them sitting in a corner reading to each other and discussing the books in their laps. He remembered listening briefly then coming back hours later and they were still there, endlessly entertained by each other.

There had been several times too, where Frank and Mikey had been too drunk, or too lost, or outright wanted to leave wherever they were and Gerard came and got them, no questions asked. Once Mikey barfed in the front seat of his car and Gerard said nothing, only rubbed his back until they got home. He liked that. Admired that.

And now he was walking a fine line between potentially betraying his best friend's trust and straining his relationship with his sibling.

Frank’s phone buzzed, snapping his attention back into reality. 

There was another message from Jenny. 

He couldn't help but to smile at his phone despite the stormy feeling brewing in his chest. He shot something back quickly, not caring if that made him seem interested. That shit was stupid.

She was actually really nice and _funny._ They had been asking each other questions about their interests the way you do when you lowkey... Are into someone. Frank liked talking to her and liked that she was seemingly interested in him even though he acted so messy on Halloween. That made him feel better.

When he looked up from his phone and back across the street he was met with a sharp-toothed smile that made his heart skip.

_Oh no._

Frank remembered where he was standing.

Gerard was looking out and across the way from his own store window. He saw him, looked at him evenly, had probably been looking at him the entire time that he was on his phone. 

Then he _waved_ and Frank felt bloodless.

Thinking quickly, Frank side-stepped away from the window, too self conscious. He hid behind a cardboard cutout of _Slash_ until Ray was done shopping.

***  
The next day a synthesized sound of a door creaking open played on Frank’s desktop. He had been wrapping up his homework, a mostly padded essay about speculated bisexual icon Emily Dickinson, when a rectangular window appeared onto the screen. 

It was a group chat. Frank didn’t recognize one of the screen names.

 **xX_D00m3dToast** : dude...

 **GuitarMan553** : Hey! 

**GuitarMan553** : Sup

 **Paint _it_Black** : :/

 **Paint _it_Black** : Mikey, it’s so weird for you to include me in these when you’re...Upstairs. Lol.

 **xX_D00m3dToast** : lol

 **xX_D00m3dToast** : ya well you need to be here

 **GuitarMan553** : Haha whats the good news man

 **xX_D00m3dToast** : go ahead g, make the announcement.

 **Paint _it_Black** : Right.

 **Paint _it_Black** : Party tonight at the punk house on diamond. 

**GuitarMan553** : Lets GOOOOO.

 _Oh. Of course._ Who else could it have possibly been?

Frank started rearranging the papers and office supplies on the surface of his desk, tucking away notes and crumpling up a previous draft that he had printed, then tossing it in the wastepaper basket across the room.

He didn’t feel like going to a party that night.

He didn't fucking feel like doing anything.

For a moment he thought of Emily Dickinson and how she isolated herself in her bedroom for years to write, avoiding everyone for the sake of her art. Maybe she was onto something.

Frank looked to the calendar on the wall. It was astrology themed. This month had an image of stuff corresponding to both Scorpio and Sagittarius, an archer centaur and a scorpion (naturally) that would have made for a pretty sweet tattoo. His mom had bought it for him from a metaphysical store in town where she sometimes went for self help books and birthday gifts. Glyphs on the grid of each month illustrated various astrological happenings and what the moon was doing. What phase it was in.

The next two weeks or so were going to be rough, finals lining up with––

A separate message window popped up with a curious chime. 

**Paint _it_Black** : Did you text me a few days ago?

_Fuck._

**Paint _it_Black** : If you did, sorry for not getting back to you. I didn’t recognize the number.

Frank typed something then promptly deleted it. His hands floated over the keyboard.

_Paint _it_Black is typing…_

He was outright having a weird feeling about all of this. Gerard was taking a minute with his message. The elipses after his username were taunting him. 

The messenger client chimed again.

 **Paint _it_Black** : You coming tonight? You left your whatever binder here. It’s on my desk.

 _Shit_ , that’s where his American Literature binder snuck off to. He needed those notes.

_Okay, stay cool._

Frank typed and hit enter.

 **Misfitz4Eva** : i dunno man its snowing

 **Misfitz4Eva** : too cold out

 **Misfitz4Eva** : dont want to get sick

Frank could definitely get out of this. Probably. Yeah, it was cold out. He didn’t want to go out tonight. A party in the snow? That’s like the flu waiting to happen.

Gerard replied faster this time.

 **Paint _it_Black** : Haha, barely.

 **Paint _it_Black** : You can crash here. 

**Paint _it_Black** : If you need to.

 **Paint _it_Black** : Ray’s gonna.

_Paint _it_Black is typing..._

**Paint _it_Black** : Should be pretty interesting.

 _Interesting?_ Frank’s eyes squinted at the screen. He sure as hell wasn’t doing a fucking repeat of the _interesting_ that happened the other night. 

His phone was on the desk, sitting on top of a textbook. He picked it up and turned it over in his hands.

Maybe he could make himself too busy to go out. He could...

If he went for coffee or a movie with Jenny he could get out of potentially having to have more _stressful_ interactions with Gerard.

_That’s a perfect plan._

Sorry, I have a date. With someone else. A girl. She's really fucking cool and it’ll end in kissing that won’t be fucking confusing. And she won’t lick the blood off my face, and she won’t turn my head into a thoughtless wasteland completely beyond my control because that isn’t even possible.

He opened the message thread he had going with Jenny. They were talking about movies that they liked.

**_Hey, super last minute but what are you doing tonight?_ **

The reply was nearly instantaneous, buzzing in his palm.

**Party tonight at the house on diamond! You’re friends with Josh from last semester, right? You should come. :)**

Okay, not what he had expected. A second message came through.

**It’d be cool to see you.**

Frank set his phone onto his desk carefully and wiped his hands over his face. 

_Double fuck._

He could settle for begrudgingly going out, the motivation being _the girl I kind of think I like will be at the party and she wants to see me. I want to see her._ That was an unquestionable reason to be there. He could break away from his friends and hide somewhere with her, figure that out and then get his binder later that night. Get the binder and peace out, bye, see you later we are never talking about what happened.

He wanted to hide from everyone.

Additionally, Frank needed those notes to write his final paper, he couldn’t just avoid getting them from the Way house forever. He could easily take care of everything tonight.

 **Misfitz4Eva** : jennys gonna be there tonight

 **Paint _it_Black** : Who? :)

What Frank really wanted to tell him was that he needed to fucking stop messing with him. That they needed to talk. That he really wanted to know what the kiss in the bathroom at the mansion meant. If it meant…

 _Actually_. Frank’s mind raced.

Maybe he could do both. All the things. He could get his binder after the party, talk to Jenny and work that out, then get some answers from Gerard all in one night. Yeah.. He could totally manage that.

All he would have to do is make Gerard a couple strong drinks, sit him down and ask him what the fuck was going on. He could wring out some answers from Gerard by plying him with booze, which Gerard would definitely happily accept from Frank. They were _friends_. And Frank, who would be nice and relaxed himself after his own drinking or whatever they got up to, would be able to shed enough anxiety around the topic that he could just let Gerard have it, saying it to his face. It would take five minutes and Gerard wouldn’t even remember anything.

Unless he did.

 **Misfitz4Eva** : yeah

 **Misfitz4Eva** : fine ill come


	6. King's Cup

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello? It's been a month since you've seen me. Lol.. I'm so sorry, life got in the way. I won't take so long next time.
> 
> Thank you for all your kudos and nice comments, I really appreciate it. <3
> 
> Very lightly beta'd as usual.

_“I could not resist the temptation of mystifying him a bit, I suppose it is some taste of the original apple that remains still in our mouths.”  
**― Bram Stoker, Dracula** _

***

Winter weather was magic ––Too bad it was fucking miserable to be out in it. Too bad that it made Frank’s nose run. 

He dabbed at his face with the sleeve of his coat.

It was snowing and the four of them were walking down the driveway together. A silent dusting of sparkling white came down through the air, sticking to their hair and eyelashes. The boys were dressed mostly appropriate for the damp cold, their noses pink from the temperature outside. 

It was the kind of freezing that made Frank’s lungs pinch when he breathed. Nevertheless they were on their way, trudging toward Gerard's car down the block.

Their exhales came out as clouds, streaming upwards towards the streetlights that were tinting the neighborhood a warm orange. Snow made things quieter, sounds dampened except that of their footsteps and conversation. Quiet like the trees were holding their breath and a lack of wind making everything stand still. 

Frank couldn’t help but think about how he didn’t want to go to the party. He was still tired from Halloween if that was even possible. The weather was doing the opposite of motivating him and he jammed his hands into his pockets before using his chin to get the collar of the sweatshirt beneath his coat higher up around his neck. 

_Fucking hell it was freezing._

And now that they were outside, Frank really wished that he had brought a hat with him because his ears were starting to sting. Gerard and Mikey had the right idea, both wearing beanies. Gerard’s with an oversized pom pom and Mikey wearing one of the hundreds of hats from his collection. He was growing out one of his weird homebrew haircuts and his blonde hair tufted out around his glasses. 

As they got closer, Mikey unlocked the car with the key fob and it honked in response. 

“Gee, catch.” He launched the carabiner of jingling keys towards his brother and Gerard grabbed it out of the air. “Nice.” Mikey said. 

Last time they did that Frank distinctly remembered Gerard being hit in the head.

_Wait..._

Gears turned and ground against each other.

“Gerard is driving?” Frank asked, as if someone driving their own car was anything to sniff at. His boots were crunching forward in the several inches or so of snow on the ground and he was being careful not to slip. Not just with his feet, but his tongue too. There was nervousness ping-ponging around in his gut, and now the plan he was hoping to enact seemed to be rapidly dissolving before he even had a chance to chicken out of it. Because _of course it was._

_Wonderful._

“Yup, Takin’ a break from drinking.” Gerard said, turned away towards the car. He looked over his shoulder to consider Frank with a curious look that Frank had to school his face into something neutral against. “Might do a little toke or two, but otherwise it’s just me and the _Marlboro Man_ tonight.”

_A break._

Frank’s heart sank.

Because– _well hell. Foiled again, or in general. Or priemtively and now -Fuck, now what?_

His plan was so good, but the blueprints had been crumpled up and tossed into the trash.

_It was so fucking good._

“Mm.” Mikey agreed followed by something else that sounded like _'was it?'_ but Frank’s perception of this was cut short by Mikey opening the passenger side door for Ray and gesturing for him to sit down. 

“Ray finally gets to have some fun with us.” Mikey said. He was smiling down at Ray like his fingers were crossed behind his back. Eyes glimmering, evil. 

“You are _not_ gonna make me drink a _Mickey’s_ , two raspberry wine coolers and _Beefeater_ like last time…” Ray said.

“It’s not my fault you trust me enough to drink whatever I hand you.” Mikey said before tutting. He gave Ray a different, more innocent look over his black and white frames and his mouth turned up into his lopsided smile that always betrayed him, revealing when he was being facetious. Like right then.

Ray stepped on the toe of Mikey’s converse from where he was in the bucket seat, causing Mikey to draw his foot away quickly with an “ _Ouch!_ ”

“I’ll watch him.” Frank said, sliding into the back seat. 

Mikey joined him shortly after, settling close. He slapped the top of Frank’s thigh. “You’re no fun.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Frank half agreed. He loved Mikey’s little mean streak.

Frank’s attention was steered away when the engine started. He wrung his hands in his lap. He had to think about a _new_ strategy for the night and quick. 

He wouldn’t be able to talk to Gerard like he wanted to. Which meant he was going to have to avoid him for the most part because he didn’t trust himself to not say something stupid. At least that would be easy, since Gerard had a habit of disappearing at social events. He could still get some time in with Jenny at the party if she was around, then retrieve his English binder from the basement. Afterwards he could ask for a ride home. He could get out scot free.

He would not stay over at the Way house. And he sure as hell wasn’t going to drink too much like on Halloween if he had to ride home with Gerard because, again, the potential of saying something stupid.. Or worse.. Doing something stupid. Or worse than worse, being drunk and asking a sober person important questions. Questions about how you sort-of-maybe messed around with them in a haunted house, followed by either not remembering the outcome of that or remembering how poorly said questioning went. Naturally, this would lead to living in a permanent state of regret and humiliation, where the only option forward would be death. 

Frank had the impulse to get out of the fucking car and go running back inside. 

He wasn’t going to be able to grill Gerard that night. Not if he was sober, he couldn’t. 

There would have to be some kind of work around. Frank looked to the front seat, Gerard was adjusting the mirrors and then the stereo.

_Stupid..._

“You good?” Mikey leaned against Frank’s shoulder. 

Frank used the car ride to try and figure it out as Christmas music played from the radio. 

***

They got to the party way later than expected, due to an unexpected amount of traffic and an expected amount of snow.

The house on Diamond was tight. A group of punks owning the ramshackle property, keeping the house in black paint on the outside and communal disarray inside. 

A few glittering snowflakes were still shimmering above their heads as they joined the scene through a wooden back gate that was propped open with a stack of cinderblocks.The four boys had parked around the corner and went through the side yard of the house to join the crowd clustering in the backyard. It was even more fuckin’ freezing out, snowfall stopping a few minutes prior but a noticeable dip in the temperature since they had left. 

The porch and deck looked to be some kind of illegal build. It extended too far on purpose to serve as a makeshift stage. It was perfect for what they were there for that night; Music, talking, trading stories over beers and hand sewn patches on black or blue denim over-jackets.

In the backyard garden and on the end of the deck, an all girl band was playing under a few haphazardly arranged beach umbrellas. String lights were hung overhead, ambiently lighting their several covers of _The Cure_ and various _Joan Jett_ titles before they moved on to playing their own songs. 

The people who weren’t in front of the band were congregating together in clumps on the patio, hanging on each other drunk and or for warmth. The amount of black everyone was wearing made them look like penguins. This was charmingly incongruent to the few pink plastic flamingos scattered about the otherwise sparsely decorated yard.

Frank, Ray, Mikey and Gerard settled on the corner of the strangely built deck, tucked close to each other to piece out what they were going to get up to. 

“It’s like...Okay, don’t make that face. There’s only a _little_ Everclear in it. A tiny bit. Ray, come on It’s good.” Mikey was enthusiastically explaining to Ray the exact mixed drink he wanted to make him that someone mixed for him _this one time during spring break_ (it sounded terrible) when Ray cut him off to nudge Frank.

“Girlfriend’s here.” Ray pointed across the yard with his chin. 

There was the smell of smoke as a cloudy plume of white rose from behind a clutch of people. On the edge of the yard some people that Frank maybe recognized from campus were lighting a pile of sticks, newspaper and duraflame logs inside of a metal fire pit.

A girl stood over these kids who were huddled together, mostly crouched and attempting to light the fire. The girl, in a bulky sherpa-lined jacket, stood with her hand on her hip. 

It was Jenny. She had colored her hair black since Frank last saw her. He knew her silhouette.

Frank thought of the textbook image of cavemen attempting to make fire. They looked like a full-scale diorama in a museum because of how they were oriented. Rubbing sticks together and jabbing at each other.

“How’s that going?” Mikey asked, he was sort of craning around Gerard to take a look over to where Jenny and her friends were.

The pit wasn’t lighting. There was what looked like some lighthearted arguing between her and those below her. 

“Don’t fucking look.” Frank said.

“..I _see_.” Mikey said, still looking. Still obvious. Him and Gerard shared a second-long glance.

“Guys..” Frank wavered.

Then all of them were looking. 

One of Jenny’s friends noticed this and–Then Jenny turned around to see Ray, Mikey and Gerard arranged behind Frank. All smiling big _except_ for Frank. Who instead looked mortified, eyes big and shoulders squared tense.

Jenny waved.

One of her friends handed her a piece of newspaper and she rolled it up, lighting it with the flick of a disposable lighter before tossing it into the pile in the fire pit. It went up into flames immediately, the kids below her jumping back before looking up at her with a mix of big smiles and mouthed expletives.

“She’s cute.” Gerard said.

 _You’re cute_. Frank’s brain supplied a little too quickly. It was Gerard’s stupid hat. It would have made anyone look cute. _Anyone._

Frank felt his ears burn. He flushed.

_God.. Why..Shut up._

“So... ” Mikey started. He elbowed at Frank and Ray. “Drinks?” The two agreed with a nod and Frank’s embarrassment eased as attention was guided away from being directly on him.

“Be right back.” Mikey said. “Stay right here.”

“I’ll come with.” Gerard added and they slunk off together, Gerard with an arm around Mikey’s shoulders. They went off towards the house where Frank saw coolers and buckets of ice lined up against the side wall when they had come in.

Frank fidgeted, eyeing his feet. It was just him and Ray and everyone else around them on the deck. Someone bumped into his back as they passed behind him.

“Should I–?” Frank asked, sounding unsure as he looked to Ray. He coughed, clearing his throat. 

He wanted to stay with his friends, but not making an appearance or whatever when you’re at the same party as your sort-of-maybe crush would not be the move. He couldn’t just not now that she had seen him.

As if to say ‘ _poor you, a girl likes you_ ’, Ray turned Frank around by the shoulders and pushed him forward towards the fire pit.

“Go say hi, _Romeo_.” Ray encouraged. “We’ll find you later...”

***

It was strange, something unnamed and awkward zapping between them. Strange until Jenny kissed him in the corner of the mouth, surprising him. She leaned back half-grinning at Frank and god, Frank was so fucked.

“Hi.” Jenny said, easy and pretty and in a way that made him instantly comfortable but also terrified. 

“Hi.” was what Frank managed, he was standing in front of her with his hands in his pockets. 

She was undeniably cute, Frank was horribly aware of this stone-sober. Black wavy hair past her shoulders, freckles and sharp eyeliner detailing her impish expression. Her oversized coat’s sleeves were slipping over her hands and her jeans were tucked into a time-kissed pair of lace up boots. 

Everything was hitting him at once with her in front of him and not on the screen of his phone. He remembered that she was sweet and that she smelled good. That on Halloween he felt like his face could’ve melted into hers with how she kissed him. In that moment he was definitely a little bit under her thumb because of how she was looking at him, open and interested. 

Interested in _him._

Frank could barely wrap his head around it, even with it right smack in front of him. He would have to thank Mikey for sending that text...And then promptly kill him, because _fuck_.. Now he had to try to not scare her away by being a complete loser freak in real life.

Frank felt like he might puke.

But they had kissed already, so maybe the hardest part was out of the way. She wasn’t running screaming and seemed genuinely happy to see him.

Her friends however...They looked up at Frank from where they were stooped and sitting around the fire pit, frowning with what was probably concern or distrust. This tapered off when Jenny introduced him. A few mumbled ‘hi’s’ and waves moved around their circle along with Frank’s name. Frank knew some of them from having class and from a couple recent basement shows.

“So, you’re _here_.” Jenny started.

“That’s me.” Frank said. He was smiling, his mouth unable to keep from turning up at being paid attention to like this. He knew his ears were probably getting red again, but maybe it wasn’t so bad.

They stood close, evaluating one another. The tiny kind of moment that was both painful as it was exciting. Frank could feel her friends still watching from the sidelines. 

“You wanna sit?” Jenny asked.

***

If there’s one place to confirm the state of your sobriety at a house party, it’s in a bathroom mirror.

Pee. Wash hands. Dry hands on the truly disgusting ratty hand towel hanging to the side of the sink. 

_Holy shit, that’s me._

In the reflection Frank smoothed a hand through his hair, touched his face and marveled at the numbness tingling in the apples of his cheeks.

Frank would have told you it wasn’t until right then that he really for sure felt it. That the mirror made it worse. Or better. That the booze in his belly that hadn’t quite settled was definitely making everything feel better. Easier at least. 

He was stuck looking at himself, leaning forward with his hands planted on the surface of the counter.

_You’re...Very very drunk, Frankie._

Time was funny alone in the bathroom at a party and he needed a minute. Or five.

_Come on, you’re taking too long. It’s time to go._

He liked them enough, Jenny’s friends. They were fine and nice and talked to him. One of them, a taller punk kid with a nose ring and grown out bleach-blonde hair even let him mooch off his little plastic cooler stash of _Pabst Blue Ribbon_ that he was keeping by the fire pit. 

When small talk died down around the fire though, Frank was made uncomfortably aware of how he was the satellite of a person sitting outside of an established tight-knit circle. Several inside jokes were made, everyone laughing but Frank. It wasn’t his fault, but he still felt stupid-awkward and the snow sticking to his hair and on his face only made his skin burn hotter when someone said “ _Right Frank_?” to tease him. They knew he wasn’t part of their pack or whatever, their little group.

But, like. _Come on_. That kind of thing happened all the time.

While they were outside, another girl who was one of Jenny’s friends, sat curled next to her to keep warm. Jenny had opened her coat and they were sharing it over their shoulders. This wasn’t a problem… It was cute. 

Cute in a way that left Frank singled out and cold on a plastic lawn chair.

So in remedy, Frank drank a few or four cans of beer a little too quickly to busy his hands and to warm up. To shake off his nerves. 

More importantly he didn’t have to contribute to conversation with his lips against the cool aluminum rim of his _Pabst, okay_?

“Can we go in?” Some time later someone had asked and like a dam breaking everyone got up at once. The fire was dying and effectively everyone around it was finished pretending that it wasn’t still snowing a little outside.

Inside the house was packed with people, full of voices, elbows bumping. Frank followed Jenny and her friends as they threaded their way into the kitchen, straggling behind until she grabbed his hand and pulled him along into the room.

Her grip was light and warm. She squeezed his hand and he squeezed back. For a moment the night seemed to not be completely cursed. This small gesture made it feel like things could turn around and conceivably really go somewhere that his little embarrassingly soft heart wouldn’t dislike.

Bottled beer was passed around and Jenny and the blonde kid from earlier snuck behind the kitchen island to pour everyone plastic cups of something very strong and very sweet that reminded Frank of the smell of paint thinner when it hit his tongue.

Right as Jenny came back around and crowded him against a wall, pressing into him with her hips– Because the room was full enough for her closeness to go unnoticed– one of her friends yelled “Let’s play king’s cup!”

Things became fuzzy from here.

He had wanted to steal her away and talk to her, not play a fucking drinking game. Not _this_ drinking game. The only other time he had played king’s cup he ended up sick in the bushes outside of a _Taco Bell_. –But _fuck_ , now he had to be down for it. He wasn’t going to be all chicken shit scared off when this was the only way to continue being next to her.

Jenny and her friends sat around the kitchen table. Frank took the seat next to her, scooted close but not too close, with the kid with the bleached blonde hair flanking her on the other side. 

Blonde kid riffled the cards between his fingers, shuffled them together into a neat stack before setting them into the center of the table. 

“I’ll start.” He said and drew a card, flipping it over as everyone settled their drinks into a circle. “Ace to the face.”

They went through the deck three times, the second blurring into the third. Cups were drained and topped off with who knew what. Soda and something else, whatever was being poured in the kitchen before.

Sometime here Jenny reached for Frank’s hand again, playing with his fingers under the table. 

_Stay cool, Frank._

Except he might die. For real. Not because there was a cute girl absently drawing shapes into the concave of his palm with her fingertips, but because he kept drawing bad cards. And in this game, with all of its stupid rules, it meant that Frank was feeling like he was zooming off to another planet. Next level toasted... Toasty.

_Wow toast...Food would be so good right now..._

“Hey, Mikey Way.” At least four of the kids sitting at the table said at once as Mikey pulled out a chair to join them after seemingly evaporating into the room. 

“‘Sup. I’m playing.” Mikey said and set his drink down with everyone else’s.

Two more rounds of king’s cup and Frank could barely feel when Jenny’s leg pressed heavily into his. She was leaning diagonal, knee touching Frank’s and head tucked into blonde punk kid’s neck. They looked comfortable, he was resting his head on top of hers with his arm over her shoulder.

Frank really wanted to know what the fuck was going on next to him.

_Because what? Hello? Him and Jenny were talking, weren’t they? What the hell did talking mean…_

He had no idea, but through the fuzz of it Frank could register that Mikey was staring at him looking perturbed from across the table. Was he seeing this too? If he could, then everyone there probably could as well; Jenny and the blonde kid snuggled together and Frank in visible crisis.

That and her friend was–Okay so, blonde kid was good looking. He was taller than Frank and had a big lazy smile that was splitting his face as they went around the circle drawing cards and taking swallows from their cups. Frank watched as he smoothed a hand over Jenny’s leg that wasn’t touching him, stopping to rest at her knee, and hated that he couldn’t remember the guy’s name.

_Yeah, that was–What’s that like?_

Maybe he wanted that for himself, the touching happening next to him that he was pretending to not see. At least it was what he could really go for right then in his state, to be Jenny’s friend holding her or even to be Jenny being held. He felt heavy and swimmy and– _And woah okay_ , perhaps he wouldn’t have to imagine it for much longer because Jenny dropped her hand onto Frank’s thigh and _squeezed._

_Wow, there was a lot going on and.. Okay.._

People around the table started getting up to disband, the game was over. When had it ended?

Jenny reached for Frank, actually moved for him, playing with the hem of his sweatshirt that was now out from under his unzipped coat.

_Fucking what?… She…._

“Frankie, hey...” Mikey said from across the table. 

Frank could barely hear him. He could have been a million miles away because Jenny was then petting the top of his leg, deliciously warm and frighteningly deliberate. Both Jenny and the blonde kid were giving Frank an interested, very _specific_ feeling kind of look from where they were sitting.

Frank’s brain suddenly kicked back online.

_Oh no...That’s too many people._

And then he really needed to get away.

When Frank stood up he realized just how drunk he was. Yes, how deceptive the human body could be when it came to the relationship between sitting, standing and consuming alcohol. 

Jenny got up too and they sort of bumped into each other.

“Living room?” she was close to his ear. Leaned in and puffing hot breath against his skin and making him feel even more disoriented. 

He nodded, because yeah. _Living room.. Okay.. Right_. He might end up there at some point, so he couldn’t completely disagree with whatever was being asked of him. Whatever being–There was no way he was understanding all of this right, but when she turned to leave the kitchen the blonde kid followed behind her.

“Frank..Wait.” Mikey said and the room faded into gray.

Frank had no idea how long he had been in the bathroom, had no fucking idea when he had even walked himself into the room. He was hungry and tired, and time stretched like taffy on a hook under the overhead light. 

Thumping music leaked in through the walls, muffled behind the bathroom door. He had to get out of the mirror or else he was going to be there all night.

_C’mon, let’s go...Out the door. Gotta’...Move._

With a huge amount of will he was able to get the door open again and shuffled into the corridor. He knocked against the opposite wall as he staggered through the hallway.

***

Later Frank found Mikey and Ray sitting close together on a giant overstuffed green leather chair in the corner of what was at some point an office or reading room. There were several other people in the space, smoking and busy with a game of _Clue_ that was laid out on a low coffee table. The air smelled like strawberry from a flavored rolling paper.

Where he was sitting Ray specifically looked subdued. He was smiling and sleepy-eyed, leaning against Mikey with his hair in his face. They were wordlessly passing a cigarette between them. It was unusual for either of them to smoke. 

Ray was transfixed on Mikey, looking at him with illegible intent and as he approached the pair Frank realized that they were holding hands.

“Hi puppy dog.” Mikey said before he looked up. He was stroking his thumb over the heel of Ray’s palm. 

Frank felt like he was seeing something he wasn’t supposed to. He wrote it off on being drunk, on all of them being drunk. Mikey and Ray were close, they had always been close. Instead he let himself fall between them, heavy and making an irritated noise as he wedged himself into their space.

“Dude.” Ray said. Him and Mikey fumbled to arrange Frank onto the chair with them so they all could fit pressed together.

“I don’t think it went well.” Mikey laughed as Frank slumped against him. Into him.

“There, there.” Ray patted Frank’s shoulder. 

“Shut up.” Frank slurred.

Fucking, _no_. It wasn’t going well. When Frank found his way to the entryway of the living room Jenny was snaking a hand up the blonde kid’s shirt while they made out on a couch. She was sitting in his lap with her arms looped around his neck. He was kissing her ear, moving down to her neck, then she seemed very interested in the words he was speaking directly into her mouth. 

_Not that this was a problem. Frank thought._

_She could totally do whatever she wanted. Live your life or whatever the fuck. The romantic autonomy of women is not to be judged. She has the right to kiss whoever. It’s a free country, you know what I mean?_

“That’s a lot of exposition.” Mikey said around an exhale of smoke as he handed the cigarette over Frank to Ray. 

“What?” Frank said, his head picking up. 

They weren’t a thing. Frank and her weren’t… He didn’t know, but hell, if there was something to make Frank feel entirely uncool and small it was eavesdropping on the girl he was kinda’ texting while she was siding up to a dude who maybe possibly was also looking at him and––

 _Holy shit_ , if he was reading into everything correctly – He was not ready for a literal entanglement shaped like that. There wasn’t enough room for him. Or okay, he hadn’t even considered it...They had just met Frank and..

_Good for them._

It should have made him sick, should have made him feel angry, but it left him more confused than anything. Now there was nothing left to distract him from his dumb brain thinking dumb thoughts about how he could have been over there instead of against the door frame of the otherside room that was his vantage point. He _could_ have gone over there, he was invited. 

He could have but he didn’t want to. 

Maybe he was imagining it all, and if he had gone over to sit on the couch Jenny would have slapped him for misunderstanding. Maybe he lost his chance to drown all his big overwhelming feelings in kissing her because he took too long in the bathroom– and she became impatient because she too wanted to kiss–And then her friend swooped in to save the day. 

Maybe what he was really feeling bad about was how he wanted to be honest with himself and Gerard, who he hadn’t seen all night and could barely look in the eye. Honest about the larger problem he was beginning to create in their friend group if left unchecked –Over what was a one-time thing. All because he continued avoiding it instead of asking him about what had happened between them. And really because he _liked it_ , damn it. It didn’t have to mean anything, but he liked it. He'd admit it to himself. He liked it and that wigged him out. 

Where the fuck was Gerard if he wasn’t with Ray and Mikey right then?

“I’m over it.” Mikey said.

Frank’s thoughts snapped back into being in the room with his friends. 

“Over what?” Frank asked.

“The amount of face sucking happening here tonight. None of it has involved me and that means it’s time to leave.” Mikey then looked to Ray.

“Are you thinking…?” Ray asked.

“I’m _always_ thinking.” Mikey laughed and grabbed for the smoke they were sharing. He took in another long drag before tamping it out on the sole of his shoe then dropped the butt into a beer bottle near his feet.

“I’m not gonna kiss you, four eyes –No “ _for science_ ” shit. Frank is here. That’s like illegal...”

“Stop.” Frank said and buried his face into Ray’s shoulder. “ _Please_ fucking stop.”

“Actually, shut up. I’m thinking about…” Mikey trailed off.

Frank could tell that Mikey was probably giving Ray some kind of pointed look over his glasses. He could just tell even with his face hidden.

“Yes. Definitely.” Ray said, he was shifting like he was nodding.

Frank also knew what the exchange happening around him meant.

A hand rested on top of Frank’s head, patting his hair.

“Go find Gee, will you?” Mikey said.

“He’s your brother, you get him.” Frank replied. He leaned back between Mikey and Ray to look vaguely irritated, but he ended up looking more tired.

“Ray and I are fucked up right now, we _can’t_.” Mikey said.

“I’m fucked up!” Frank mumbled.

They must’ve looked so stupid, arguing over who was the most drunk.

“Yeah, you are..but you got here last and Gerard doesn’t listen to me. You must.” Mikey pushed against Frank.

“You must.” Ray agreed with a giggle, then his expression turned serious. “Frank.. You gotta’.”

“No.” Frank said, he knotted his hands into the pliable leather of the chair under his legs. 

“I’ll pay..” Mikey tried.

“Hmmrrgghh.” Frank said.

“What, are you scared?” Ray asked. “Here.” From a side table next to them Ray took a cup with his name scrawled on it in sharpie and gingerly pressed it into Frank’s hands.

“What’s is it?” Frank asked. “Is this the...From earlier?”

“Yeah, Mikey made it. You can have it.” Ray said.

Frank automatically took a sip before he could consider stopping himself. Mikey was right, it was good. He really shouldn’t have had any more but he could carry it with him.

“No fear juice.” Ray said.

“Liquid courage.” Mikey corrected.

_You are so stupid._

Mikey pressed a little kiss onto the top of Frank’s head, before giving him his most pleading look. It was very convincing. “Please go find Gee?”

“Okay, both of you fuckin’ _are_ drunk.” Frank turned to shove at Mikey. “ _We_ are drunk.”

“Told you.” Mikey smiled wryly. “Now get up.” 

***

Through the swaths of people laughing and standing around, Frank moved while carefully cradling his plastic cup. 

He couldn’t ignore that his guts were doing it again. Were tying themselves into a heap of a tangle as he searched the house for Gerard. It was getting worse with each room that Gerard wasn’t in. Either because he was alone or because Mikey’s secretly lethal potion that he had been nursing on his quest was sneaking up on him. 

Gerard had disappeared after going inside with Mikey at the beginning of the evening. Frank saw them across the yard when he was out by the fire pit. Some time later he found him in one of the larger rooms in the house, a long addition converted into a game or rec room. Whatever the hell you called the place that had a pool table and gaming system set up on an old projector shining _Wii tennis_ onto a wall.

Gerard was with someone, a girl. They were standing leaning against the end of the pool table with their arms around each other, talking with their heads together. 

Nothing could surprise Frank anymore that night. The party had been a dog-pile of weird shit happening to and around him. Surely there was a dark portal or some ley lines on the property, that would have been kind of cool..

He covertly backed himself into a wall by the front of the room and buried what may have been a vague feeling of jealousy in a long drink, the small remains of ice cubes knocking around against the sides of his cup.

Really, at this point he was curious. 

Talking so close made sense, it was loud. It was just that...Gerard wasn’t the type Frank would ever think to, you know, have game. It was odd to see him talking to someone in such close proximity, let alone a girl...Unless he had some kind of monopoly on the market of girls who never shut up about Star Wars like he did. 

This could have been who he was with on Mischief Night.

Frank watched as Gerard pressed close to her ear to ask something and she pulled away to nod at him slow. Gerard reached for her. He touched her neck, the spot under her ear, then pulled back and was looking at his fingertips.

_Very curious._

He brought his drink to his lips again.

Right as Frank was bringing his arm down he was bumped into, spilling the last sixth of his cup down the front of his shirt. There was a mumbled ‘ _sorry_ ’ as he looked down in distress to see that his clothes were now wet.

_Damnnit._

He abandoned his cup on the shelf of a bookcase, feeling grateful that what was spilled on was black and didn’t really show before letting his attention settle back to where Gerard was. There were enough people around that Gerard and whoever he was talking to hadn’t noticed Frank observing them.

The girl had her hands on Gerard’s waist.

They stayed like this for a long time, Frank waited. He waited, watching and feeling like he might fall through the wall at his back when the girl tucked close to Gerard rubbed her cheek into his and he laughed.

Frank hadn’t even wanted to come tonight, he had wanted to leave since they had gotten there. This was what he deserved for not trusting his gut.

It was off, but the whole party was off. Gerard untangled himself from his friend, saying something to her that Frank couldn’t make out–But she was nodding again, swaying a little. Then she was leaving, turning to go with her body angled out and away from Gerard. 

Frank had seen enough. They needed to get out of there. 

Gerard’s eyes got big and he straightened himself when he noticed that Frank was moving towards him. He looked caught. Like some kind of veil was lifted and Frank was peeking under the curtain of some freaky boy-glamour put in place there in the smoky game room where people were playing _Wii Sports._

“Hey. Hi.” Frank said. He would have been more concerned about how he had just hip-checked the pool table Gerard was leaning against if it weren’t for Mikey’s drink. “Mikey and Ray want midnight breakfast.” 

Gerard continued looking on edge until Frank added a slurred and quieter “ _Can we leave_?” before tilting his head down to hide in his hair.

“I could go for some hash browns…” Gerard said.

“Great, alright. Let’s go.” Frank agreed.

_Please, let’s go._

He turned to leave, moving for the exit and hoping that Gerard would follow when he was gently tugged back by the sleeve.

“Hey...” Gerard said.

Frank looked back, beginning to say something in protest –Because hello, Mikey and Ray?– and was startled.

In the cool light of the smoke filled game room, Frank caught a glimpse of too-sharp teeth. Elongated canines peeking out from Gerard’s barely open mouth, briefly within his view but _there._

 _Fangs,_ Frank thought. _Those are–_

The combination of cigarette smoke suspended in fluorescent light mixed with the warm glow of a green glass lamp above the pool table had to be creating some kind of illusion. Frank’s brain was known to cook up some fucked up stuff when high or drunk or tired. It could only be a trick of the light. It had to be.

It was, he blinked and they were gone.

He had imagined it.

Then it was just him and Gerard leaning against the pool table side by side with everyone else in the room. Gerard was hanging back when they should be leaving, when Ray and Mikey were waiting for them, peering at Frank as if he were waiting for him to say something. 

“Band was cool tonight.” Gerard said.

“Yeah.” 

Frank realized that he was at a massive disadvantage in this conversation, he was so stupendously messed up. He was seeing shit. 

They needed to leave so he could go sleep it off. 

“So..I wanted to tell you.” Gerard said, looking at him intently. “I can’t drive you back home tonight. You cool with crashing at mine?”

There was no way that what he saw was anything but imagined, he was drunk after all...And creative. Apparently to a fault.

Frank tugged a hand through his hair, making it stand up.

“The diner’s on the way, but since you’re further away across town and it’s dark It would be better if you went home in the morning. With the snow and all…is that okay?” Gerard continued.

“Is it?” Frank said, a little indignantly. 

“Of course.” Gerard said.

“Yeah...Fine.” Frank said. He wanted to slap the fucking pom-pom off Gerard’s hat.

They still weren’t leaving, stilled against the back end of the pool table. Gerard crossed his ankles, his hips resting against its bull-nosed edge comfortably.  
There was a beat and Frank wondered if his cloying discomfort, amplified by being smashed was obvious on his face. 

“Who was that?” Frank said in reference to the girl hanging off Gerard moments earlier. 

“Friend from class.” Gerard said.

Frank didn’t have any friends from class who rubbed their faces against his like that. 

“Where’s _your_ girl?” Gerard asked. He had his chin sort of tilted down, serious. Something softer was forming behind his expression.

_She’s making out with someone I can’t even be angry about her being into, but fuck it’s not me and I could have joined them...But I have never even considered the possibility of that until tonight and if the floor opened up into a sink hole and I disappeared it wouldn’t be the worst thing that could happen._

“She’s here. You know… _Around_.” Frank answered, pushing his tongue into his cheek.

“Oh..” 

For a second Frank thought Gerard was being smug, that he was rubbing it in. This melted away immediately when Gerard leaned forward and closer to Frank so he didn’t have to talk as loudly as before.

“She was on the couch in the front room..?” Gerard said, voice earnest. A tiny, ‘ _you okay_?’ hidden under the surface of his affect.

Frank shrugged, eyes stuck on the floor around his feet.

“Right.” Gerard said and his mouth turned down briefly. “Well.”

“ _Well…_ ” Frank repeated. Right then more than ever he wanted to leave, thinking about everything that had transpired with Jenny made his head hurt.

He rocked a little from side to side.

“You ever think we’re gonna get tired of this?” Gerard started again.

“Of what?” Frank asked.

Gerard gestured at the room. At the party and everyone there. In a larger concept probably alcohol and being up so late and...

“I mean, one day. I’m sure.” Frank said.

“...Did... You have fun?” Gerard said bumping his shoulder into Frank’s. He shuffled to the side, creating space between them again.

“Nah.” Frank said.

“Then it’s a good thing we’re leaving.”

***

It was two AM and everyone sitting in the red pleather restaurant booth was wasted and being too loud except for Gerard.

“She _what_?” Ray said.

“I _know_..” Frank nodded, he folded his arms onto the table and rested his head on top of them.

“With her friend?” Ray asked. “Both of them...Together?”

“You’re kidding.” Gerard said.

“You saw. What the fuck else could it have been?” Frank asked. “I went where she told me to and her friend was in there _with_ her.”

“No, that’s exactly what it was.” Mikey said, his tone flat. “That’s what was happening.”

“To our little Frank?” Ray said.

“I _know_. Ubelievable.” Mikey agreed and sipped sprite from a clear textured plastic cup.

“-Miks.” Gerard said, shaking his head. “Come on.”

Frank made a deflated noise into his sleeves, hiding his face.

Their food came, the waitress arranging it onto the tabletop around Frank without saying anything.

When Frank sat up after a few more minutes of stewing in his sorrows regarding his impromptu abandoned three-way, Mikey and Ray were busy splitting their plates of curly fries and French toast in a way that probably better required a scale. The two were moving food back and forth, forks and knives scraping plates. Making sure they had equal amounts of everything.

All of them often ended up here after a party or a show. For midnight breakfast or evening coffee that was considerably strong and left them jittery well into the next morning.

The diner was mostly empty, smelling of fried potato and something warm and bready. They were the only ones in their seating section, their waitress putting them far away from the other patrons after seeing three out of four of them stumble inside.

Frank was still very drunk, sitting next to Gerard with the hood of his coat up over his head. He started tucking into one of the only things he could eat on the menu, pancakes.

In the middle of a long drink of black coffee Gerard looked over to Frank because his phone was vibrating loudly in his pocket.

"My mom." Frank said.

When Frank flipped it open there was a message his eyes couldn’t focus on long enough to decipher. He took another bite of pancake, fork in one hand phone in the other. Then realized that at some point Ray (always Ray) had reached across the table to cut his food into precise bites for him.

This had happened before, it was a reasonable precaution after the one night where he nearly got half a waffle stuck in his throat...And similarly, with that experience he was the most inebriated person in the booth.

“C’mere” Gerard said. Frank was still making an attempt to read the message on the tiny flip phone screen when he looked up to see Gerard reaching for his face. 

The vinyl booth creaked beneath them. Under the table their thighs pressed against each other warmly.

Frank had a schmutz of strawberry syrup on his chin. Stickiness on his skin, a bright red drip clinging near his lips.

Frank turned his head and Gerard’s thumb brushed over his lower lip, grazing his lower teeth because Frank opened his mouth just barely. He was surprised at being so carefully touched. Even if it was just to clean his face. 

Gerard dropped his hand to his side.

"I hate your hat." Frank said. "I _really_ hate your hat."

His face felt tight and hot.


End file.
